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THE WINDERMERE SERIES 


HEIDI 

A STORY FOR CHILDREN AND THOSE 
WHO LOVE CHILDREN 


By 

JOHANNA SPYRI 


Translated by 

PHILIP SCHUYLER ALLEN 

The University of Chicago 
With Illustrations by 

MAGINEL WRIGHT ENRIGHT 



RAND M9NALLY & COMPANY 


NEW YORK 

£> o 


CHICAGO 





Copyright, 1Q2I, by 
Rand McNally & Company 




V 


0 


The Rand-M9Nally Press 
Chicago 



$£P -2 W2! ©CI.A622G45 


l 


THE CONTENTS 

HEIDI’S YEARS OF LEARNING AND TRAVEL 

PAGE 

The Preface .vii 

CHAPTER 

I. Up to Meadow Nuncle’s.3 

II. At Grandfather’s.20 

III. In the Pasture.30 

IV. At the Grandmother’s.48 

V. One Visit, and Then Another.66 

VI. Brand New Experiences.80 

VII. Miss Rottenmeier Has a Tiring Day ... .91 

VIII. Excitement in the Sesemann House . . .no 

IX. The Master Hears Strange Things . . .125 

X. A Grandma.133 

XI. Heidi Improves in Some Ways and Grows Worse 

in Others.147 

XII. The Sesemann House Is Haunted.154 

XIII. A Journey Back to the Mountain Meadow . .170 

XIV. Sunday, When the Church Bells Ring 194 

HEIDI MAKES USE OF WHAT SHE HAS LEARNED 

I. Preparations for a Journey. 215 

II. A Guest on the Mountain Meadow . . .225 

III. A Reward.238 

IV. Winter in the Hamlet.252 

V. The Winter Continues . 269 

VI. News from Distant Friends.280 

VII. Further Happenings on the Mountain . . .304 

VIII. The Unexpected Happens . 316 

IX. Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow.337 

V 





















THE LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

Heidi watched all that uncle did with eager curiosity . . Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

Nothing seemed so strange or wonderful to Heidi as the mysteri¬ 
ous sounds in the tops of the trees .48 

Heidi in despair flung herself down on Clara's couch . . . .120 

Shortly after Heidi went to her room, Fraulein Rottenmeier 

appeared .136 

Quicker and quicker went Heidi's little feet .184 

Grandmother sat with folded hands while Heidi read . . . .200 

Peter went diligently to work to learn the letters .272 

Clara sat silent, overcome with the enchantment of it all . . .328 





THE PREFACE 


More than fifty years ago, amid the tumult and clamor of 
the Franco-Prussian War, little Adelheid was born into the 
world of literature, in which she has lived as a favorite figure 
of childhood ever since. There is something about her at 
once so innocent and sweet, so loyal and truthful, that she 
has endeared herself unfailingly to those who read her life, 
and she has come to occupy a secure place in the affections 
of young people of many different lands and languages. 

The pure mountain air of Switzerland breathes in the 
pages of Heidi’s book, as does a sincere love for nature in her 
simpler and grander moods. The cramped dweller in cities 
and towns longs for the freedom of the open spaces and the 
highlands quite as earnestly as do our small heroine and 
Meadow Nuncle. Goat Peter is the very image of unfettered 
country boyhood. Crippled Clara and the despondent doctor 
grow strong in the rude vigor that prevails on the sloping 
roof of the Swiss world. 

Perhaps a first reason for the sure hold that Heidi has won 
on the hearts of her own and a later generation lies in the 
beautiful and unusual setting given to her story. But no one 
reads far into the quiet tale before its characters begin to live 
more really than most people he has actually met and known. 
Not for anything in the world would one have missed an 
acquaintance with Brigitte and the blind grandmother of 
Goat Peter’s tumbledown cottage, with the village pastor 
and Meadow Nuncle, and with Peter, the feather-minded 
general of the army of goats. Prim Miss Rottenmeier is 
drawn from life with broad strokes of the pen, as are kind- 
hearted Sebastian, and the blundering tutor, and pert Tinette. 
Clara, the patient invalid, is a sweetheart—nothing less—and 

vii 


THE PREFACE 


viii 

how we do agonize over her possible betterment and recovery! 
And one comes away from meeting Mr. Sesemann and his 
serene mother encouraged to a renewed faith in men and 
affairs. Verily, it is difficult to say who loves best to read 
and read again of Heidi and her friends: whether children or 
the older folks. The authoress, Johanna Spyri, made no 
mistake when she wrote beneath the title of her unforgetable 
book, “A Story for Children and for Such as Love Children.” 

The present translation has been a labor of love. A con¬ 
sistent attempt has been made throughout to modernize both 
dialogue and description wherever this has been possible with¬ 
out harming the old-world flavor of the original. 

Philip Schuyler Allen 

The University of Chicago 
Thanksgiving Day, 1920 


HEIDI’S YEARS OF LEARNING 
AND TRAVEL 


HEIDI 


CHAPTER I 

UP TO MEADOW NUNCLE’S 

A path leads from the cheerful old market town of 
Mayenfeld through green and wooded fields to the very 
foot of the mountains whose tall slopes gaze sternly down 
upon the valley. The first part of this narrow trail has no 
great interest for the traveler, but the moment it begins to 
climb, the whole moor sends forth the sweet smells of its 
plants and grasses until the air is heavy with them. And 
suddenly the path strikes sharply up and goes straight to 
the Alps. 

On one bright and sunny June morning a tall and 
stoutly built girl of this highland country was toiling 
up the road, leading a child by the hand. The cheeks of 
this small lassie were in such a glow that it flamed even 
through the deep tan of her skin. Nor was this after all so 
strange a thing, for, although the June sun burned hotly, 
the poor child was all bundled up, as if for protection from 
a bitter frost. 

You would hardly think the little mite was more than 
five years old, but just what she really did look like you 
could never guess, because she was covered by two different 
dresses that anyone could plainly see. They were put on 
in layers, one above the other. And, to make matters worse, 


3 


4 


HEIDI 


a big scarf of red cotton was so wound about her tiny 
form that she did not seem to have any shape at all as she 
trudged wearily along in her rough and heavy tramping 
shoes. 

These two people had climbed some three or four miles 
up from the valley when they came to the group of houses 
which lies halfway on the long Alpine slope and which is 
called The Hamlet. And here they were shouted at from 
almost every house, now from an open window, now from 
a doorway or the roadside. For the highland girl had at 
last reached her home village. She made no stop, how¬ 
ever, but on her way by kept calling back answers to all the 
questions that were asked of her. And so they came to the 
far end of The Hamlet and to the last of its scattering 
cottages. A voice hailed her— 

“O Dete, wait a minute! If you’re going farther up, 
I’ll walk along with you.” 

The highland girl halted. The child who was with her 
quickly drew away her hand and sank down upon the 
ground. 

“Are you so very tired, Heidi ?” her companion asked. 

“No-o-o, but I’m hot,” the child said. 

“You just wait, we’ll be up there before long now. 
Only, you must try harder and take great big steps, and 
then we’ll be at the top in an hour,” her guide said, to 
encourage her. 

At this moment a fat, good-natured woman stepped out 
of the house and joined them. The child got to her feet 
again and walked along behind the two older people. And 
these, who were old friends, began to talk at a great rate 


UP TO MEADOW NUNCLE’S 


5 

about the different people of The Hamlet and of the many 
other dwellings in its neighborhood. 

“Say, Dete, where are you taking the youngster ?” the 
fat woman asked. “That's the child of your dead sister, 
isn't it?” 

“She’s the one,” answered Dete. “I'm going up to 
Nuncle's with her. And she’ll have to stay with him, too.” 

“What's that ? The child's going to live with Meadow 
Nuncle? You can't be in your right mind, Dete! How 
can you even think of such a thing? The old man will 
just pack you and your fine plan off home again, you'll see!” 

“Oh, no, he can't do that. For, after all, he's her 
grandfather, and it's his business to look after her. I have 
been supporting the child so far. And I'll tell you one 
thing, Barbel—I am not going to lose such a place as I 
have now found for the sake of any youngster. It's time 
Nuncle steps in and does his share.” 

“Of course it is,” broad Barbel agreed eagerly. “Or 
at least it would be if he were like other people. But you 
know his sort. What on earth will he do with the child, 
and with such a tiny one, too? She won't last it out in 
his house. But where is it you are planning to work?” 

“In Frankfort,” said Dete, “and an extra good job it 
is. My new employers were at the baths last summer, 
their rooms were on my floor, and I looked after them. 
They were determined to carry me off with them then, but 
I couldn't get away. And now they want to hire me again, 
and Pm going, no matter what anyone says.” 

“I shouldn’t like to be that child,” declared Barbel, 
with a shudder. “For nobody knows what's wrong with 


6 


HEIDI 


the old man up there. He never speaks to a living soul. 
From one end of the year to the other he never sets foot 
in the church. And when, once a season, he and his thick 
staff do come down to us, everybody runs away from him 
and is afraid. Those bushy gray eyebrows of his, and 
that awful beard! He looks so much like an old heathen 
and Indian that I can tell you you’re glad not to rim across 
him when you’re alone.” 

“Suppose he does look queer,” said Dete defiantly, 
“he’s her grandfather just the same and has to take care 
of the child. He probably won’t do her any harm. And 
if he does, he will have to answer for it, not I.” 

“And still,” the prying Barbel said, “I’d awfully like 
to know what sin is on the old man’s conscience. Why 
does he frown so? Why does he live up there on the 
mountain meadow, shut off from all the world? Why 
does he almost never show himself among people? They 
tell all sorts of stories about him, but I suppose you’ve 
heard them all from your sister, haven’t you, Dete?” 

“Indeed I have, but that is my business. If he found 
that I had been gossiping, I’d get myself into trouble.” 

Barbel had for ever so long been curious to know 
what was the matter with Meadow Nuncle. Why did he 
glare at people as if he hated them? Why did he live on 
the mountain like a hermit ? Why did folks always speak 
of him curtly, as if they did not want to be against him 
and still were afraid to speak a good word for him? 
Barbel also thought it queer that all the people in The 
Hamlet should call the old man Meadow Nuncle, for of 
course he could not be the real uncle of every one of them. 


UP TO MEADOW NUNCLE’S 


7 


But, because they called him that, she followed their lead 
and never spoke of him except as Nuncle, which was the 
local way of saying Uncle. 

Just a little while before our story opens, Barbel had 
married and come to The Hamlet from her girlhood’s home 
in Prattigau, and this is why she did not yet know all the 
strange things that had happened in the small village and 
all about its odd characters and surroundings. Her friend 
Dete, however, had been born in The Hamlet and had 
lived there with her mother until the old lady had died 
the year before. Then Dete had gone to work in the sum¬ 
mer resort Ragaz as chambermaid in the great hotel there. 
And this morning she had come back with the child from 
Ragaz. They had ridden as far as Mayenfeld on a hay 
cart which a friend of hers was driving home, and he had 
been glad to give her and her little charge a lift. 

Barbel was not the one to let so good a chance to learn 
about things slip. So she took tight hold of Dete’s arm 
and said slyly— 

“You see, dearie, one can get the truth from you about 
what people are saying, because of course you know the 
whole story. Do tell me what’s wrong with the old fellow. 
Was he always so feared? Did he always hate every¬ 
body so?” 

“How do I know how he used to be? I’m only twenty- 
six years old, and he is seventy at least. You can’t expect 
me to have seen him when he was young. Still, if I knew 
it wouldn’t be gossiped all over Prattigau afterward, I 
could tell you a few things, believe me! Mother was from 
Domleschg, you know, and so was he.” 


8 


HEIDI 


“Bah, Dete, what are you afraid of?” asked Barbel, 
a little offended. “Don’t be so hard on the poor gossips 
down in Prattigau. And I guess I can keep a secret if I 
have to. Go on and tell me, that’s a good girl! You won’t 
be sorry for it.” 

“All right then, I will. But see that you keep your 
promise!” Dete warned her. First she turned around to 
make sure the child was not close enough to hear what 
she was going to say, but the youngster was nowhere to 
be seen. She must have stopped some time before this, 
only the two companions had been too interested in their 
chattering to notice the fact. Although the footpath made 
several windings, still one could see most of it all the way 
down to The Hamlet, and there was no one in sight. 

“Oh, now I see her!” cried Barbel. “Look over yon¬ 
der !” and she pointed far to one side of the mountain trail. 
“She is climbing the slope with the young goatherd Peter 
and his goats. I wonder why he’s bringing his beasts so 
late today. But it’s all right. He can look after the child, 
and you can tell me all the better about things.” 

“Peter won’t have any trouble with her,” said Dete. 
“She’s anything but stupid for a five-year-old. She has 
her eyes open and sees what is going on in the world, I tell 
you! She’ll do the old man good, for he has nothing left 
but his two goats and the thatch on the mountain meadow.” 

“He used to have more, didn’t he?” asked Barbel. 

“I should say he did!” answered Dete eagerly. “He 
owned one of the finest farms in Domleschg. He was the 
elder son and had only one brother, who was a quiet and 
steady fellow. Now, Nuncle wanted to do nothing except 


UP TO MEADOW NUNCLE’S 


9 


play the gentleman, travel around the country, and be 
friends with bad people whom nobody else wanted to know. 
He gambled and drank until the farm was all gone. And 
then the news came that his father and mother had died 
one right after the other because of their grief. And the 
brother, who had been made a beggar, got angry and ran 
away, nobody knew where. And Nuncle himself dis¬ 
appeared, leaving nothing but a bad name behind him. ,, 

“Where had he fled to ?" 

“They weren't sure. Some said he went off with the 
army to Naples. Anyway, nothing more was heard from 
him for almost fifteen years. And then suddenly he 
appeared, one day, with a half-grown boy, whom he tried 
to leave with his relatives." 

“And they took the lad in, did they, Dete?” Barbel 
asked excitedly. 

“Not they! Every door was closed against Nuncle. 
No one wanted to have any dealings with him. This made 
him very bitter. He swore he would never set foot in 
Domleschg again, and he came up here to The Hamlet to 
live with his boy. The mother must have been some Swiss 
girl that he had met down below and soon lost again." 

“But, Dete, the old man had no money!" 

“There must have still been some money left, for he 
had the boy Tobias learn how to be a carpenter. Tobias 
was a nice lad and well liked by all the people in The Ham¬ 
let, but nobody placed any trust in the father. They said 
he had run away from the army in Naples and that he 
would have been put in jail if he had not fled, because he 
had killed a man — not in war, of course, but in a fight. 


10 


HEIDI 


Still, we had to speak to him, since my mother's grand¬ 
mother and his had been sisters. So we called him Nuncle. 
And, because through our father we are related to almost 
all the folks in The Hamlet, they called him the same. 
That is why, ever since he moved up to the mountain pas¬ 
ture, he has been known as Meadow Nuncle." 

“But whatever became of Tobias?" Barbel asked 
curiously. 

“Have a little patience and you’ll hear," said Dete. “I 
can’t tell you everything all at once. Well, Tobias was an 
apprentice off in Mels. And when his term was over he 
came home to The Hamlet and married my sister Adel- 
heid, for they had always been fond of each other. And 
they got along finely after their marriage, but it did not 
last very long. Not more than two years later, when 
Tobias was helping to build a house, a beam fell on him 
and killed him. When they brought her husband home so 
badly hurt, Adelheid’s grief threw her into a violent fever 
from which she never quite recovered. She was never 
very strong after that. She was so weak that often you 
could scarcely tell whether she was awake or sleeping. A 
few weeks after the death of Tobias they buried Adelheid, 
too." 

“People must have pitied Nuncle then," said Barbel. 

“Oh, no, they didn’t. Far and near everyone was 
talking of the sad fate of the young couple. And they 
said as well as hinted that this was the punishment which’ 
Nuncle got because of his godless life. They told him to 
his face, too — the pastor had a straight talk with him 
about begging God for forgiveness. But Nuncle just grew 


UP TO MEADOW NUNCLE’S 


n 


more sullen and no longer had a good word for anybody. 
They took good care to avoid him, anyway.” 

“And is that why he left The Hamlet, Dete?” 

“I suppose. Suddenly it was reported that Nuncle had 
gone up to the mountain meadow and sworn never to come 
down again. And since that time there he has stuck and 
lived at odds with God and men. Mother and I took Adel- 
heid’s child in with us; it was a year old. And when 
Mother died last summer, I wanted to earn my living 
down at the baths. So I took the child along and put her 
out to board at old Ursula’s up in Pfafferserdorf. It 
turned out that I could stay at the baths during the winter, 
for there was a lot of work to do, because I knew how to 
sew and mend.” 

“And you met your new employers there?” 

“Yes. They came from Frankfort again, early last 
spring. They were the ones I had waited on the previous 
year and who want to take me back with them. Day after 
tomorrow we go. And the place is a good one, I’ll tell 
you that.” 

“And you’re leaving the child with the old man up 
there? O Dete, I wonder what you can be thinking of!” 
Barbel said in a tone of deep reproach. 

“And why not?” Dete demanded. “I guess I’ve done 
my duty by the child. And what else is there left for me 
to do now? I surely can’t take a youngster five years old 
to Frankfort. But — where are you going, Barbel ? We’re 
hardly halfway up to the meadow.” 

“I — w hy, I’m right where I started for,” Barbel 
answered. “I must have a talk with Goat Peter’s mother. 


She is to spin for me this winter. So good-by, Dete, and 
good luck!” 

Dete gave her hand to Barbel and then stood watching 
her as she walked toward the small, dark brown hut which 
stood a few steps to one side of the trail in a hollow that 
protected it somewhat from the mountain winds. The hut 
was situated halfway up to the summit pasture, if one 
measured the distance from The Hamlet. And it was a 
good thing that it stood in a sheltered nook of the moun¬ 
tain side. For it did look so shaky and tumble-down that 
it must have been dangerous to live in it when the storm 
wind blew so madly across the Alps that doors and win¬ 
dows rattled. At such a time all the decaying timbers of 
the cottage trembled and creaked. If the little house had 
stood out on the level pasture, it would have surely been 
swept down into the valley far below. 

In this hut dwelt Goat Peter. 

This was the eleven-year-old boy who each morning 
went down to The Hamlet to fetch the villagers’ goats. 
He drove them to the highland pastures, where they could 
graze on the short meadow grass of the slopes until even¬ 
ing came. Then Peter would run down the slopes again 
with his nimble flock, would pause at the edge of The 
Hamlet to whistle shrilly through his fingers, and each 
owner would come to the village green to get his own 
goat. 

It was usually the small boys and girls who would be 
sent on this errand, for there was nothing to fear from 
the gentle little animals. And these short moments at sun¬ 
set were the only time during the whole summer when 


UP TO MEADOW NUNCLE’S 


i3 


Peter associated with his playmates. The rest of the days 
he spent with his goats. 

To be sure, his mother and his blind grandmother lived 
with him at home. But as he was forced to leave the hut 
very early in the morning and never returned to it until late 
in the evening, spending, as he did, every minute possible 
in play with the Hamlet children, he saw but little of his 
home. In fact, there was just time enough to swallow his 
bowl of bread and milk at dawn and at dusk, and then off 
to his cot for sleep. His father, like himself, had been 
called Goat Peter, because in his childhood years he had 
also tended the flocks, but some years before this he had 
been killed by a falling tree which he was chopping down. 
The real name of young Peter’s mother was Brigitte, but 
because of family associations everybody called her Goat 
Peter’s wife, and the blind grandmother was known to 
old and young as just Grandmother. 

Now Dete had been waiting some ten minutes or more 
to see if she could find the children. She had climbed a 
little higher to a spot where she had a better view of the 
downward sweep of the meadow lands, and from this new 
place she peered about her in every direction. She was 
becoming very impatient, for the youngsters were coming 
slowly the long way around. Peter knew many a hidden 
spot where there were shrubs and bushes good for his 
goats to nibble at, so he and his herd were taking their 
own time and not hurrying. 

At first Heidi had tramped painfully along after Peter, 
for the heat made her gasp, and her heavy clothes were so 
uncomfortable that it took all her strength to keep up with 


l 4 


HEIDI 


the boy. She said nothing, but she kept eyeing the young 
goatherd, who with bare feet and in thin trousers was 
jumping about here and there without the least effort 
And then she looked at the goats, whose slender legs were 
climbing so lightly over the thin bushes and the rocks of 
the steep cliffs. Suddenly Heidi sat down on the ground, 
peeled off her shoes and stockings quickly, pulled the thick 
red scarf away from her throat, and unbuttoned her little 
dress to wriggle hurriedly out of it. 

But this, alas, was not all she had to do. There was 
another dress for her to unhook, because Aunty Dete, in 
order to make short work of dressing Heidi and to avoid 
an extra bundle, had drawn the child’s Sunday clothes on 
over her everyday ones. Quick as light the old gown was 
off, too, and now Heidi stood dressed only in her thin 
underskirt and blouse and was stretching her bare arms 
happily forth from her short sleeves. Then she rolled her 
things up in a neat bundle and leaped and climbed after 
the goats at Peter’s side, as light of foot as any in all the 
company. 

Peter had paid no heed to what the child was doing 
when she had fallen behind. But later, when he saw her 
running along after him in her new costume, his whole 
face twisted into a merry grin as he turned around to look. 
And when he caught sight of the small heap of clothes 
lying down below, his grin became if possible even wider 
still and his mouth seemed to reach clear from one ear to 
the other, but he said nothing. 

Now that Heidi felt so much more easy and comfort¬ 
able, the two children started to talk with each other. 


UP TO MEADOW NUNCLE’S 


15 


Peter had many a question to answer, for Heidi wished 
to know how many goats he had, and where he was going 
with them, and what he was going to do when he got there* 
And so it was that they and the goats at last arrived at 
the hut and came to the sight of Aunt Dete. 

The moment Dete saw this straggling company, she 
cried, “Heidi, whatever are you doing? My, how you 
do look! Where is your Sunday dress, and the other dress, 
and your scarf ? And the brand new shoes I bought you 
and the new stockings I knit for you? They are gone, 
every one of them! What have you done with them all?” 

The little girl pointed calmly down the mountain side 
and said, “There they are.” 

The aunt looked where she was pointing. Sure enough! 
Something was lying there, and on top of it was a red spot 
that must be the scarf. 

“You naughty little imp!” the aunt cried in great vexa¬ 
tion. “What got into your head, Heidi? Why did you 
take your things off ? What do you mean by such actions ?” 

“I don’t need them,” the child said. Nor did she seem 
to be sorry in the least for her deed. 

“You wretched, silly Heidi, where is your common 
sense?” her aunty went on to scold her. “Who’s to go 
down and get them, more than a mile away? Quick, 
Peter, run and fetch the things for me, and don’t stand 
there goggling as if you were stuck fast to the ground.” 

“I am already too late with my goats,” said Peter 
slowly. And he stood right where he was without budg¬ 
ing, his hands thrust into his pockets, listening with a 
grin to Dete’s scolding. 


i6 


HEIDI 


"Just standing and staring won't get you very far in 
life," Aunty Dete called to him. "Come here. I've got 
something nice to show you." 

She held out to him a penny so new that it flashed in 
his eyes. 

Without a word Peter ran off and tore in a straight 
line down the hillside. He took such big jumps that he 
reached the pile of clothing in a short time. He seized it 
and appeared with it again so quickly that Dete could not 
help praising him and giving him the promised penny. 
Like a flash Peter stuck it deep in his trousers' pocket, and 
his face shone and was wreathed in smiles. For such a 
treasure did not come his way often. 

"Now carry the pack to Nuncle's for me, because 
you're going up there anyway," Aunty Dete said. 

And they made ready to climb the steep trail that rose 
straight upward behind the cottage of Goat Peter. 

The boy did willingly as he was asked and followed his 
guide as she strode swiftly on ahead of him. In his left 
hand he clutched the bundle of clothes, in his right he 
swung his goat whip. Heidi and the little animals leaped 
gaily on by his side. 

In this way, almost an hour later, the small procession 
arrived at the mountain meadow. Here the cabin of old 
Nuncle stood on a great overhanging rock, open to all the 
winds that blew, but also where every ray of sunshine 
would strike it, and with a fine view far down into the 
valley. Behind the hut three old fir trees towered aloft 
with their long, thick branches. And still farther on, in 
the rear of the meadow, the trail again wound its way up 


UP TO MEADOW NUNCLE’S 


17 


the mountain side until it reached the old gray cliffs. First 
the road crossed heights that were rich with grass and 
plants, then a great patch of tangled shrubs strewn every¬ 
where with stones, until at last the trail was lost in the bald 
crags that stood sharply out against the sky. 

Fast to the cottage on its valley side Nuncle had nailed 
a bench. Here he was sitting, with a pipe in his mouth and 
his hands on his knees, looking calmly on as the children, 
the goats, and Aunt Dete climbed up the path. Heidi led. 
She walked right up to the old gentleman, stretched out 
her hand, and said, “Good evening, Grandfather1” 

“Well, well, and what does this mean? ,, Nuncle asked. 
He grasped the child’s hand and gazed at her from under 
his bushy eyebrows with a long and rather fierce look. 
Heidi looked steadily back at him without once winking, 
for Grandfather, with his thick gray eyebrows that grew 
together in the middle, seemed somehow so strange to her 
that Heidi had to stare at him quite closely. In the mean¬ 
time Dete arrived with Peter, who stood still for a while 
and waited to see what would happen. 

“I wish you good day, Nuncle,” said Dete, coming 
forward. “Here I am bringing you the child of Tobias 
and Adelheid. Of course you don’t recognize her, because 
you haven’t seen her since she was a year old.” 

“And what is the child to do in my house?” the old 
man asked. “As for you yonder,” he called to Peter, “run 
along with your goats. You’re none too early. Take my 
goats with you.” 

Peter disappeared at once, for Nuncle had given him a 
look that was all he wanted. 


i8 


HEIDI 


“Heidi’s going to stay with you, Nuncle,” Dete said. 
"I guess I've done my share for her these last four years. 
It’s now your turn to see what you can do.” 

“O-ho!” said the old man, and flashed a look at Dete. 
“And when the child begins to whimper, as silly young¬ 
sters will, what am I going to do then?” 

“That is your business,” Dete said. “There was no 
one to tell me how to handle the child when she came to 
me barely a year old. And I already had my hands full 
looking after Mother and myself. I have my own work 
to go to now, and you are the child’s nearest relative. If 
you can’t keep her with you, then you must do whatever 
you want with her. But it’s your fault if anything bad 
happens to her. And I guess you’ve got enough to answer 
for already in that respect.” 

Dete’s mind was far from easy in this matter of getting 
rid of Heidi. That is why she grew so excited and said 
more than she meant to. At her last words, Nuncle rose 
up quickly and looked at her so that she fell back a step 
or two. He stretched out his arm and said fiercely — 

“Go back to where you came from. And don’t you 
show up here again!” 

Dete did not wait to be told twice. 

“Well, good-by then, Nuncle, and you too, Heidi,” she 
said quickly. 

And she ran all the way downhill to The Hamlet at a 
fast trot, for her excitement kept driving her on like a 
steam engine. As she passed through the village this time, 
she was hailed more often than before, because everyone 
was wondering what she had done with the child. They 


UP TO MEADOW NUNCLE’S 


19 


were all acquainted with Dete, knew who the child was, 
and remembered everything that had happened in the past. 

But when from every door and window the questions 
flew, “Where is the child, Dete?” and “Where did you 
leave the young one?” she kept answering back ever more 
and more crossly— 

“Up at Meadow Nuncle’s. Ye-e-es! At Meadow 
Nuncle’s, I said. You’re not deaf, are you?” 

The reason she was so rude was that the women on 
every hand were calling to her— 

“Oh, how could you do such a thing!” and— 

“The poor little kitten!” and— 

“Leaving that helpless little midget up there!” and— 
“The poor little angel!” over and over again. 

Dete ran on and on as fast as ever she could, and was 
glad enough when she finally got out of hearing of their 
words. For she was not quite easy about the whole busi¬ 
ness, since her mother on her death bed had given Heidi 
to her to care for. But she comforted herself with the 
thought that she could help the child all the more now that 
she was earning good wages. And so she was glad to 
escape from anybody who argued against her act, and at 
last be on her way to take a good position. 


CHAPTER II 
AT GRANDFATHER’S 


After Dete had gone, Nuncle had sat down again 
on the bench, and now he was blowing great clouds of 
smoke from his pipe, and all the time he was staring at 
the ground and saying never a word. Meanwhile Heidi 
looked about her happily. She discovered the goat shed 
that was built beside the cottage and peered into it. 
There was nothing inside. 

The child continued her search and came to the old 
fir trees behind the hut. There the wind was blowing so 
hard through the branches that it whistled and roared up 
in the tree tops. Heidi stood still and listened. When 
it grew a little quieter, the child walked around the other 
side of the cottage and came back to her grandfather in 
front. As she found him still in the same position as 
when she had left him, she placed herself before him, put 
her hands behind her back, and gazed at him. The grand¬ 
father looked up. 

“What do you want to do now?” he asked as the 
child kept standing before him without moving. 

“Pm going to see what you have in the cottage,” said 
Heidi. 

“Come on, then!” And the grandfather got up and 
walked ahead of her into the hut. “Bring your bundle 
of clothes along with you,” he called to her as she entered. 

“I don’t need them any more,” Heidi explained. 


20 


AT GRANDFATHER’S 


21 


The old man turned around and looked sharply at the 
child, whose black eyes were shining as she thought of 
what would be inside. 

“She can’t be lacking in common sense,” he said half to 
himself. '‘Why don’t you need your clo»thes any longer?” 
he added aloud. 

“I’d soonest go like the goats. They have swift little 
legs.” 

“And you can, too, but get your things,” Grandfather 
told her. “We’ll put them in the chest.” 

Heidi did as she was told. The old man now opened 
the door, and Heidi followed him into a fairly large room 
which took up all the space of the cottage. There was a 
table, and a chair beside it. In one corner was the bed 
where Grandfather slept. In another corner a great kettle 
hung above the fireplace. On the other side of the room 
there was a big door in the wall. Grandfather opened 
it. It led into the cupboard. 

In there his clothes were hanging. On one shelf lay 
his shirts, his stockings, and his linen, and on another 
one were several plates, cups, and glasses, and on the 
topmost shelf a round loaf of bread, with smoked meat 
and cheese. Everything the Meadow Nuncle had in the 
world and needed for his housekeeping was in this closet. 
As soon as he had opened the cupboard, Heidi ran quickly 
up with her things and thrust them inside as far back 
of Grandfather’s clothes as she could, so they would not 
be easy to find again. 

Then she looked carefully around the room and said, 
-Where must I sleep, Grandfather?” 


22 


HEIDI 


“Where you want to,” he answered. 

That just suited Heidi. She hunted in every nook 
and corner to see which was the best place for her to 
sleep. Over in the corner beyond Grandfather’s couch 
a little ladder was standing. Heidi climbed this and came 
to the hayloft. There lay a fresh, sweet-smelling heap 
of hay, and through a round window one could look far 
down into the valley beneath. 

“I want to sleep here,” Heidi called down, “it’s fine! 
Just come and see how nice it is here, Grandfather.” 

“I know well enough,” came the voice from below. 

“I’m making the bed now,” the child called again, as 
she moved busily to and fro, “but you must come up and 
bring me a linen sheet, for there’s a sheet on every bed, 
and that’s what you lie on.” 

“So that’s the way it is,” the grandfather said below, 
and after a while he went to the cupboard and rummaged 
around a bit in it. Then he drew out from under his 
shirts a long coarse cloth that looked as if it might be 
something like a sheet. He came up the ladder with it. 
A very neat little bed had been made up there in the loft. 
At the top of it, where the head would come, the hay had 
been piled up high, so that one could look right through 
the open round window. 

“That is done just right,” the grandfather said. “Now 
comes the sheet, but wait a second”—and he snatched 
up a good armful of hay from the stack and made the 
couch twice as thick, so that the hard floor could not 
be felt through it—“there, now come here with the 
sheet.” 


AT GRANDFATHER’S 


23 


Heidi had quickly grasped the linen sheet, but it was 
so heavy that she almost could not carry it. But that was 
a good thing, too, for then the sharp hay-straws could 
not stick through the firm material. Then the two of 
them spread the sheet over the hay, and where it was 
too wide or too long Heidi hastily stuffed the ends under 
the bed. At last it looked very trim and neat, and Heidi 
stood before it and looked at it thoughtfully. 

“There’s one thing we’ve forgotten, Grandfather,” she 
said. 

“What can that be?” he asked. 

“A coverlet. For when you go to bed, you creep in 
between the sheet and the coverlet.” 

“Oh, you do ? But what if I haven’t got one ?” the old 
man said. 

“That’s all right then, Grandfather,” Heidi said gently. 
“We can take some more hay for our coverlet,” and she 
started to go to the haymow again, but Grandfather put 
up his hand. 

“Wait a minute,” he said, climbed down the ladder, 
and walked over to his couch. Then he came back with 
a large, heavy linen sack and laid it on the floor. 

“Isn’t that better than hay?” he asked. Heidi tugged 
at the bag as hard as ever she could to unfold it, but her 
little hands could not master the heavy material. Grand¬ 
father helped, and when at last it was spread out on the 
bed everything looked quite neat. 

Heidi stood admiring her new couch and said, “That is 
a splendid coverlet, and the whole bed is beautiful! And 
now I only wish it was night, so I could lie down on it.” 


24 


HEIDI 


“I think we'd better have something to eat first," said 
Grandfather. “Is that your idea?" 

Heidi had been so excited about making the bed that 
she had forgotten everything else. But now that she 
came to think about food she at once grew very hungry, 
for she had had nothing except a piece of bread and a 
small cup of thin coffee early that morning, and since that 
time she had made a long journey. 

So she said very heartily, “Yes, that's my idea, too." 

“Go down then, since we’re both agreed," said the old 
man, and he followed right on her heels. 

Then he went to the kettle, pushed the big one aside, 
and drew forward the small one that hung on the chain, 
sat down before it on the three-legged wooden stool with 
the round seat, and blew the fire into flames. The water in 
the kettle began to boil, and below it the old man held a 
large piece of cheese on the end of a long iron fork over 
the fire, turning i't this way and that until it was as yellow 
as gold on every side. All this Heidi had watched eagerly. 

Suddenly a new thought had come into her mind, 
for she ran off to the cupboard and kept going back 
and forth. Then Grandfather brought the teapot and 
the toasted cheese to the table, and it was already neatly 
set with the round loaf of bread on it, and two plates 
and two knives, for Heidi had quickly found where every¬ 
thing was in the closet and knew that it would all be 
needed right away for the meal. 

“That's nice that you think things out for yourself," 
said the grandfather as he laid the cheese down on the 
bread, “but there's something still lacking from the table." 


AT GRANDFATHER’S 


25 


Heidi saw how invitingly the steam was coming out 
of the teapot and ran quickly back to the cupboard. But 
there was only a single small bowl to be seen. Heidi was 
not at a loss for long, as two glasses were standing right 
behind it. The child came back at once and set the bowl 
and a glass on the table. 

'That’s the way, you know how to help yourself. But 
where are you going to sit?” 

Grandfather was himself sitting on the only chair. 
Heidi ran straight as an arrow to the fireplace, brought 
back the little three-legged stool, and sat down on it. 

"Well, there’s a seat for you at any rate,” the grand¬ 
father said, "only it’s down a good way. But my chair 
would be too short for you to reach the table, too. And 
now you must have something to eat, so come ahead!” 

Thereupon he got up, filled the small bowl with milk, 
set it on the chair, and drew this quite close to the stool, 
so that Heidi now had a table before her. Grandfather 
laid a big slice of bread and a piece of the golden cheese 
on the chair and said, "Eat away!” 

He sat down on a corner of the table and began his 
own noonday meal. Heidi seized her bowl and drank 
and drank without stopping, for all the thirst from her 
long journey had returned to her. Then she drew a long 
breath — for she had been drinking so hard she couldn’t 
breathe for a long time — and set down her bowl. 

"Do you like the milk?” Grandfather asked. 

"I never drank such good milk in all my life,” Heidi 
answered. 

"Then you must take some more.” 

3 


26 


HEIDI 


And Grandfather filled the bowl to the very top again 
and placed it before the child, who was eating happily 
away at her bread after this had been spread with the 
soft cheese. For the cheese had been toasted until it was 
as soft as butter, and it tasted very good indeed. She took 
frequent sips of milk and seemed quite gay. 

When the meal was ended, Grandfather went out to 
the goat shed and was busy putting it in order, and Heidi 
watched carefully as he first swept it out with a broom 
and then scattered fresh straw for the animals to sleep on. 
She followed him later into the shop next door, where he 
cut round sticks and shaped up a board. He bored holes in 
it, put in the round sticks; and set it up, and there was 
suddenly a chair like grandfather’s, only much higher. 
Heidi stared at the thing, speechless with wonder. 

“What is that, Heidi?” her grandfather asked. 

“That’s my chair, because it’s so high—you did it like 
lightning,” said the child, not yet able to get over her 
surprise. 

“She knows what things are. Her eyes are in the right 
place,” her grandfather muttered to himself as he walked 
around the cottage and drove a nail here and there. Then 
he fixed something about the door and wandered from 
one place to another with hammer and nails and pieces 
of wood, patching or knocking things off, just as seemed 
best. Heidi followed his every step, watching him closely, 
and everything he did seemed to amuse her. 

Thus the evening drew near. There was a louder 
rustling in the old fir trees, and a mighty wind came along 
and whistled and roared in the thick tree tops. It sounded 


AT GRANDFATHER'S 


27 


so beautiful in Heidi's ears that it made her very happy. 
She hopped and danced about outside under the firs as 
if some strange joy had come to her. Grandfather stood 
in the doorway of the shop and watched her play. 

And then a shrill whistle was heard. Heidi put a stop 
to her jumping. Grandfather stepped outside. Down 
from above, goat after goat came leaping, like a pack of 
hunters, and Peter in their midst. With a cry of joy, 
Heidi rushed into the midst of the flock and, one after 
another, greeted her friends of the morning. 

“When the flock reached the hut, they all came to 
a halt, and two fine, slender goats, one white and one 
brown, came up to Grandfather and licked his hands, for 
he had some salt in them to welcome them with, as he did 
every evening. Peter disappeared with his troop. Heidi 
stroked gently first one goat and then the other, running 
around to pat them on the other side. She was quite mad 
about the small creatures. 

“Are they ours, Grandfather? Are they both ours? Do 
they go into the shed ? Are they to stay with us always ?" 

Heidi asked one question after another in her excite¬ 
ment, so that Grandfather could hardly get a word in 
edgewise. “Yes, yes, yes," he said. And when the goats 
had licked up all their salt, he added, “Go and bring out 
your bowl and the bread." 

Heidi did as she was told and came right back. Then 
Grandfather milked the white goat and filled the little bowl 
with its milk, and cut off a slice of bread. 

“Now eat your supper," he said, “and then run off to 
bed. Your Aunty Dete left a bundle for you—there are 


28 


HEIDI 


some nightgowns and other things in it. You’ll find it 
downstairs in the chest when you need it. I must go and 
see to the goats now, so sleep well!” 

“Good night, Grandfather. Good night — oh, what 
are their names, Grandfather? What do you call them?” 
the child cried as she ran after the old man and the goats, 
who were disappearing into the shed. 

“The white one’s name is Little Swan, the brown one 
is called Little Bear,” Grandfather answered. 

“Good night, Schwanli, good night, Barli!” Heidi 
called with all her might, because they were just vanishing 
into the stable. Then she settled down on the bench and 
ate her bread and drank her milk, although the wind was 
so strong that it almost blew her from her seat. So she 
finished as fast as she could, and went in to climb up to bed. 
And she went right off to sleep and slept as soundly as if 
she were lying on the most beautiful bed of some princess. 

Not long afterward, before it was yet wholly dark, 
Grandfather, too, lay down upon his couch, for he was 
always up with the sun mornings, and it peered over the 
mountain top very early in the summer time. During the 
night the wind blew with such force that it made the 
whole cottage tremble, and all the beams were creaking. 
It howled and groaned in the chimney like the voice of 
one in pain. And outside in the fir trees it raged so terribly 
that here and there a branch was broken off. 

In the middle of the night Grandfather got out of 
bed and said to himself softly, “She is probably scared.” 

So he climbed up the ladder and went to Heidi’s side. 
Out of doors 'the moon was shining brightly just then, but a 


AT GRANDFATHER’S 


29 


moment later it hid again behind the driving clouds and 
all was dark. Then the moonlight shone a second time 
clearly through the round opening and fell right on Heidi’s 
bed. Her cheeks were as red as fire from sleeping under 
the heavy coverlet. She lay quite peaceful and still on 
one round little arm and was dreaming of something 
pleasant, for a look of happiness was on her small face. 
Grandfather stood a long time to gaze at the gently sleep¬ 
ing child, until the moon again went behind a cloud and 
it was dark. 

Then he returned to his own couch. 


CHAPTER III 
IN THE PASTURE 

Heidi was awakened bright and early by a loud 
whistle. And when she opened her eyes, a golden light 
came pouring in through the round hole upon her bed 
and upon the hay beside it, so that everything around her 
was gleaming like gold. At first she looked about her in 
surprise and had no idea where she was. 

But then she heard the deep voice of her grandfather 
outside the hut, and she remembered everything—where 
she had come from, and that she was now up on the 
mountain meadow with her grandfather and no longer 
at old Ursula’s. Ursula was almost deaf and generally 
half frozen, so that she was always sitting by the kitchen 
fire or by the stove in the living room. And so it was 
that Heidi had to stay there, too, so the old lady could 
tell where she was, because she was too deaf to hear her. 
Heidi had felt very shut-in many times and would much 
sooner have played out of doors. 

Therefore she was very glad to wake up in her new 
home and to think of all the new things she had seen 
yesterday and all there were to see again today—above 
all, Schwanli and Barli! 

Heidi sprang hastily from her bed and in a few min¬ 
utes had put on everything she had worn the day before 
—which was little enough. Then she climbed down the 
ladder and ran out in front of the cottage. There, sure 


30 


IN THE PASTURE 


3i 


enough, stood Goat Peter with his flock, and Grand¬ 
father was that moment fetching Little Swan and Little 
Bear out of the shed to join the company. Heidi ran to 
meet him, to tell him and the goats good day. 

“Do you want to go along to the pasture?” Grand¬ 
father asked. 

That just suited Heidi, and she hopped round for joy. 

“First go and wash yourself clean or the sun will 
laugh at you when it is shining so finely up above there 
and sees that you are dirty. Look, everything is ready 
for you over yonder.” 

Grandfather pointed to a big tub full of water which 
stood by the doorway in the sunshine. Heidi ran to it and 
splashed and rubbed until her face shone. 

Meanwhile Grandfather went inside the cottage and 
called to Peter, “Come here, Goat General, and bring your 
knapsack with you.” 

Peter was surprised, but he obeyed and stretched out 
the small sack in which he carried his poor dinner. 

“Open it,” the old man ordered. And he put in it a 
big slice of bread and an equally large piece of cheese. 

Peter opened his round eyes as wide as they would 
go, for both pieces were half as large again as the two 
that he had brought for his own noonday meal. 

“There! And now the little bowl goes in, too,” con¬ 
tinued Nuncle, “for the child cannot drink as you do right 
from the goat — she doesn’t know how. Milk two bowls- 
ful for her at noon. The child is going with you and is 
to stay until you come down again. See that she doesn’t 
fall over the cliff—do you hear me?” 


32 


HEIDI 


Then Heidi came running up. 

“Can the sun laugh at me now, Grandfather ?” she 
asked earnestly. In her fear about the sun she had 
rubbed her face, neck, and arms so astonishingly with the 
coarse cloth her Grandfather had hung up beside the 
water tub that she stood before the old man as red as a 
lobster. He laughed a little. 

“No, the sun has nothing to grin at now,” he said. 
“But let me tell you one thing. Tonight, when you come 
home, all of you is going into the tub, just like a fish. For 
when you go out as the goats do, you get your feet dirty. 
And now you can set out.” 

Off they went happily up the mountain meadow. Dur¬ 
ing the night the wind had blown away the last bit of 
cloud. From every side the sky looked down on them, 
deep blue, and in the midst of it stood the shining sun 
lighting up the green pasture. And all the blue and yellow 
flowers on the meadow opened their eyes and looked at 
them joyfully. Heidi ran hither and thither and cried 
aloud for happiness, for here were whole companies of 
dainty red primroses, and over there it was all blue with 
pretty gentians, and everywhere soft-leaved yellow rock- 
roses were laughing and nodding in the sunshine. 

Heidi, because of her delight at all the gleaming, 
beckoning flowers, quite forgot the goats, and Peter into 
the bargain. She made long trips ahead and off to one 
side, for here the flowers sparkled red and there yellow, 
luring her in every direction. And everywhere Heidi 
picked great heaps of flowers. She stuffed them in her 
apron, for she wanted to take them all home with her and 


IN THE PASTURE 


33 

put them in the hay in her bedroom so that it might seem 
like out of doors. 

So today Peter was forced to look in all directions, and 
his round eyes, which did not move very quickly from one 
thing to another, had more to do than they could well 
attend to, for the goats acted as badly as Heidi. They 
flashed here and there, and he was kept busy whistling 
and calling and swinging his whip to drive all the run¬ 
aways together again. 

“And where have you gone to this time?” he was now 
crying in almost an angry tone of voice. 

“Here,” came the answer from somewhere behind him. 
Peter could see nobody, for Heidi was sitting on the ground 
behind a knoll that was thickly sown with sweet-smelling 
prunellas. The whole air around was so filled with their 
fragrance that Heidi had never smelled anything so lovely. 
She sat down among the flowers and took deep breaths 
of the perfume. 

“Come on!” Peter called again. “You mustn’t fall 
over the cliffs. Nuncle forbade you to.” 

“Where are the cliffs?” Heidi called back to ask. But 
she did not budge from the spot, for the sweet perfume 
was borne on each new breeze more delightfully than ever 
to the child. 

“Up there, away up! We have a long way before us 
still, so come right along. And at the very top the old bird 
of prey sits and croaks.” 

That sounded interesting. Heidi jumped up at once 
and flew to Peter, her apron filled with flowers. 

“You have enough now,” he said, as together they 


34 


HEIDI 


began climbing again. “If you don’t stop, you’ll never 
get away from here, and if you pick them all now, there 
won’t be any left for tomorrow.” 

This last reason seemed good to Heidi, and, besides, 
she had already filled her apron so full that there was no 
room for any more. And there must be some left to pick 
tomorrow. So she tramped along with Peter, and the 
goats became more quiet, too, for they smelled from afar 
the good herbs of the high pasture grounds, and so hurried 
on without delay. 

The pasture where Peter usually halted his goats and 
set up his quarters for the day lay at the foot of tall cliffs. 
These rocks lower down were covered with bushes and fir 
trees, but higher up they rose toward the sky quite bald 
and steep. There were great chasms in the cliffs on one 
side of the mountain, and the grandfather had been right 
in warning the children about them. 

When Peter had reached this point of the heights, he 
took off his sack and laid it carefully in a small hollow in the 
ground. For the wind often swept in strong gusts at this 
spot, and Peter knew it and did not wish to see his precious 
possessions rolling down the mountain side. Then Peter 
stretched himself out on the ground of the sunny pasture, 
for he had to rest after the hard work of his climb. 

In the meantime Heidi had laid aside her apron and 
had rolled it up neatly with the flowers inside it and had 
placed it beside the lunch bag in the hollow, and now she 
was sitting close to the outstretched Peter and gazing 
around her. 

The valley lay far beneath them in the full morning 


IN THE PASTURE 


35 


sunshine. Before her Heidi saw a large white field of 
snow which rose high up into the dark blue sky. To the 
left of this stood an enormous mass of cliffs, and on each 
side of it a high rock tower stretched bare and jagged up 
into the blue and seemed to stare very solemnly down upon 
Heidi. 

The child sat as still as a mouse and looked about her. 
Everywhere there was a great deep stillness, except that 
the wind moved quite softly and gently across the dainty 
bluebells and the gay yellow rockroses which bloomed 
about her on every side and nodded happily to and fro on 
their slender stems. Peter had fallen asleep after his hard 
work, and the goats were climbing up above among the 
bushes. 

In her whole life Heidi had never been so happy as 
now. She drank in the golden sunlight, the sweet smell of 
the flowers, the fresh air, and wanted nothing so much 
as to stay there for always. A good while passed in 
this way. Heidi had stared so often and so long at the 
tall mountain blocks that it seemed as if they, too, all 
had human faces and were looking down at her like old 
friends. 

All at once Heidi heard above her head a loud, sharp 
screaming and croaking, and as she looked up there 
circled over her the biggest bird she had ever seen in all 
her life. It wheeled through the air with far outstretched 
wings and kept coming back again in great circles of 
flight, to scream loud and shrill above Heidi’s head. 

“Peter! Peter, wake up!” Heidi cried aloud. “Look, 
there is the bird of prey—look, look!” 


3 ^ 


HEIDI 


Peter rose at her call and together they stared after 
the bird, which kept flying higher and higher up into the 
blue sky, until it finally vanished above the gray cliffs. 

“Where has he gone now?” asked Heidi, who had been 
following the bird with eager eyes. 

“Home to his nest,” was Peter’s answer. 

“Has he a home ’way up over there? Oh, how fine to 
be so high up! Why does he screech so ?” Heidi went on 
to ask. 

“That’s the way he’s made,” Peter explained. 

“Let’s just climb up and see where his nest is,” Heidi 
said. 

“Ho, ho, ho!” Peter broke out. “When the goats 
themselves can’t get up there, and Nuncle said you musn’t 
fall over the cliffs!” 

And suddenly Peter began to whistle and call so sharply 
that Heidi did not know what was going on. But the 
goats seemed to understand his noise, for one after the 
other they came leaping down until the whole herd was 
gathered on the green slope. Some kept nibbling at the 
spicy stalks, some ran this way and that, others were 
butting one another playfully with their horns. 

Heidi had jumped up and was darting around among 
the goats, for it was lots of fun for her to see the little 
animals huddling together and making menry. She ran 
from one to another and struck up a real friendship with 
each, for every goat seemed somehow different and had 
his own peculiar ways. 

While she was doing this, Peter fetched the lunch bag 
and placed the pieces of bread and cheese on the ground in 


IN THE PASTURE 


37 


a neat square, the large ones on Heidi’s side and the small 
ones on his own, for he knew exactly whose they were. 
After that he took the little bowl, milked fine fresh milk 
from Schwanli into it, and placed the bowl in the center 
of the square. 

Then he called Heidi to him. But he had to call longer 
than he did to get the goats, because the child was so hap¬ 
pily excited at the amusing play of her new comrades that 
she had eyes and ears for nothing else. But Peter knew 
how to make himself heard. He screamed until the sound 
echoed up in the cliffs. Then Heidi appeared, and the table 
he had spread looked so inviting that she hopped about 
for joy. 

“Stop your dancing. It’s time to eat,” Peter said. 
“Sit down and get started.” 

Heidi took her seat. 

“Is the milk mine?” she asked, again casting a satisfied 
look at the neat square and the chief object in the middle 
of it. 

“Yes,” Peter replied, “and the large things to eat are 
yours too. And when you’ve drunk it up, you get another 
bowlful from Schwanli. And then it’s my turn.” 

“And where do you get your milk from?” Heidi wanted 
to know. 

“From my goat, from Dapple. You go ahead and eat,” 
Peter again advised her. 

Heidi started with her milk, and as soon as she set 
down her empty bowl, Peter got up and fetched a second 
one. At that, Heidi broke off a piece of her bread, and 
the remaining portion, which was larger than Peter’s own 


38 


HEIDI 


share had been, she handed him, together with its big 
slice of cheese. 

“You can have it,” she said. “IVe had enough.” 

Peter gazed at Heidi, so astonished that he could not 
say a word, for never in his life had he been able to make 
such an offer and to give something away. He held back 
a little at first, for he could not quite believe that Heidi 
was in earnest. But she kept holding the pieces out to 
him, and when Peter failed to take them she laid them on 
the boy’s knees. Then he saw that she was not joking. 
He seized the gift, nodded his head in thanks and willing¬ 
ness to accept the present, and had the most abundant lunch 
he had enjoyed since he had been a goatherd. While he 
was eating, Heidi looked at the goats. 

“What are all their names, Peter?” she asked. 

He knew that right enough, and could keep their names 
in his head all the more easily because he did not have much 
else to store up in it. So he began without hesitation to 
name one after the other, pointing out each goat as he 
went along. Heidi listened eagerly to his teaching, and it 
was not long before she could tell them apart and call 
each one by its name. For they all had special marks by 
which one could keep them in mind, if one but paid close 
attention, the way Heidi did. 

That was Big Turk with the thick horns. He always 
wanted to butt all the others, and they mostly ran away 
when he came, for they wanted nothing to do with the 
rough fellow. Only bold Goldfinch, a lean and lively young 
goat, was not afraid of him and often tore after him three 
or four times in succession so quickly and sturdily that Big 


IN THE PASTURE 


39 


Turk would halt astonished and try no further attack. 
For Goldfinch seemed eager for a fight and had sharp 
little horns. 

Then came little white Snowhopper, who was always 
bleating so sadly and pitifully that Heidi several times had 
run to her and taken her head in her arms, to comfort her. 
And now the child ran to her again, for the pitiful young 
voice had once again cried out in appeal. Heidi placed her 
arm around the neck of the young kid and asked with 
much sympathy— 

“What’s the matter, Schneehoppli ? Why do you cry 
so for help?” 

The kid snuggled closely to Heidi and was then quite 
still. Peter called over from where he was sitting, pausing 
a few times to chew and to swallow— 

“She acts that way because the old lady no longer comes 
along. They sold her at Mayenfeld day before yesterday, 
so she comes no more up to the mountain meadow.” 

“Who is the old lady?” Heidi asked. 

“Bah, the mother, of course!” was the answer. 

“Where’s the grandmother, then?” Heidi called again. 

“Hasn’t any.” 

“And the grandfather?” 

“Hasn’t one.” 

“You poor little Snowhopper,” said Heidi, and pressed 
the small creature tenderly against her. “But please don’t 
whimper so any more. Just look, I’m coming with you 
every day, and then you won’t feel so lonely any longer. 
And if anything’s wrong with you, you can come straight 
to me.” 


40 


HEIDI 


Schneehoppli rubbed her head delightedly against 
Heidi’s shoulder and stopped her mournful bleating. 
Meanwhile Peter had finished his noonday meal and had 
now returned to his herd and to Heidi, who was beginning 
to ask about all sorts of new things. 

By far the two prettiest and cleanest goats of the whole 
herd were Schwanli and Barli, who carried themselves 
with a certain grand manner, generally minded their own 
business, and treated the silly Turk in the way that he 
deserved.— 

The little animals had now begun to climb again 
toward the bushes, and each one had his own way of doing 
this. Some jumped along carelessly over everything, 
others sniffed out the good herbs as they went more slowly, 
and Turk of course sought someone to attack. 

Little Swan and Little Bear clambered prettily and 
lightly upward and, finding at once the nicest bushes, they 
stopped and nibbled daintily at them. Heidi stood with 
her hands behind her back and looked at all the goats very 
closely. 

“Peter,” she said to the lad, who was again stretched 
out on the ground, “Schwanli and Barli are the prettiest 
of them all.” 

“Don’t I know that?” was the answer. “Meadow 
Nuncle scrubs and washes them, he gives them salt and 
has the best stable.” 

But suddenly Peter sprang up and tore at top speed 
toward the goats, with Heidi right on his heels. Something 
must have happened, and she did not want to be left 
behind. Peter ran through the midst of the flock of 


IN THE PASTURE 


4i 


goats to the side of the mountain meadow, where the cliffs 
descended steep and bare far below, and where a careless 
goat, if it went too near, might easily plunge down and 
break all its bones. 

He had seen how the reckless Goldfinch was hopping 
over in that direction. And he got there just in the nick 
of time, for the silly little animal was leaping in that 
moment toward the edge of the rocks. Peter was on the 
point of seizing it when he stumbled and fell to the ground, 
and in his fall was only able to grasp one of the animal’s 
legs and hold fast to it. Distelfink bleated aloud his anger 
and amazement, to have his leg gripped so and to be kept 
from continuing his gay stroll. He struggled to go ahead. 

Peter shrieked for Heidi to help him, for he could not 
get up and was almost tearing Goldfinch’s leg off. Heidi 
was there in a flash and saw at once the danger of both 
of them. She quickly plucked from the ground some 
sweet-smelling herbs and held them under Distelfink’s 
nose and said— 

“Come, Goldfinch, come, don’t be such a goose! Why, 
look, you might fall down and break a leg, and that would 
hurt you awfully.” 

The goat had turned around quickly and begun to eat 
the herbs from Heidi’s hand with much content. In the 
meantime Peter had got to his feet and had seized the 
rope by which the bell was hung on Distelfink’s neck. 
Heidi grasped the cord by the other side, and thus the two 
led the runaway back to the peacefully grazing herd. 

When Peter had brought the goat back to a safe place, 
he raised his rod and was going to give him a sound 
4 


42 


HEIDI 


thrashing as a punishment. Goldfinch drew back in fright, 
for he saw what was going to happen. But Heidi 
screamed— 

“No, no, Peter, you mustn’t beat him! See how scared 
he is.” 

“He deserves to be,” growled Peter and started to 
strike. But Heidi grasped his arm and cried angrily— 

“You shan’t do a thing to him, it will hurt him. Let 
him go!” 

Peter gazed in great surprise at Heidi. Her black 
eyes gleamed at him so that he lowered his rod. 

“Well, let him go, then, if you’ll give me some more 
of your cheese tomorrow,” Peter said in surrender. He 
wanted to have some reward for his fright. 

“You can have all of it, every bit, tomorrow and every 
other day,” Heidi promised him. “I don’t want it. And 
I’ll give you a lot of bread, too, just like today. But then 
you must never pound Distelfink, nor Schneehoppli, nor 
any other goat—never.” 

“That suits me all right,” Peter remarked. And with 
him that was as good as a promise. So he let the rascal 
go, and happy Goldfinch leaped high into the air and then 
flashed back to the herd.— 

So the day had passed unnoticed, and the sun was 
already on the point of setting behind the mountains. 
Heidi sat down again and gazed very quietly at the blue¬ 
bells and the rockroses. They were sparkling in the golden 
evening light, and all the grass seemed as if touched with 
gold, and the cliffs above her began to glisten and glimmer. 
And suddenly Heidi jumped up and cried— 


IN THE PASTURE 


43 


“Peter, Peter, it's burning—it’s burning! All the 
mountains are on fire, and the big snow over there is on 
fire, too, and the sky. Oh, just look! The great rock 
mountain is all golden red! Oh, the pretty flaming snow! 
Peter, get up! The fire is at the bird of prey's home. Look 
at the cliffs! Look at the firs! Everything is burning up. n 

“It's always been like that," Peter now said good- 
naturedly, as he kept on peeling his rod, “but that isn’t 
fire." 

“What is it, then?" cried Heidi as she ran back and 
forth so she could look everywhere. It was so pretty in 
all directions that she just could not get enough of it. 

“What is it, Peter ? What can it be ?" she asked again. 

“It comes that way, all by itself," Peter explained. 

“But, just see," Heidi cried very much excited, “all of 
a sudden it’s growing rosy red! Look at the mountain 
with the snow, and the other one with the high pointed 
rocks! What are they called, Peter?" 

“Mountains don’t have names," he replied. 

“Oh, how pretty! See the rosy red snow! Oh, and on 
the rocks up there are heaps and heaps of roses! Ah, now 
they’re getting gray! Oh, my! now it’s all over, Peter." 

And Heidi plumped down on the ground and looked 
as troubled as if everything had really come to an end. 

“It will be like that tomorrow again," Peter declared. 
“Get up, we’ll have to be going home now." 

The goats were whistled for and gathered together. 
The home journey was begun. 

“Is it that way all days — every day when we are at 
the pasture ?’’ asked Heidi, eagerly listening for his answer 


HEIDI 


44 

as she climbed down the mountain meadow at Peter's 
side. 

“ 'Most always," he replied. 

“But tomorrow again, sure?" she insisted on knowing. 

“Tomorrow, without any doubt," said Peter. 

That made Heidi happy again. And yet she had seen 
so many new things, so many thoughts were whirling 
around in her mind, that she never said a word until she 
came to the meadow hut and saw Grandfather sitting 
beneath the fir trees. He had built himself a bench there 
and was always waiting there in the evening for his goats, 
which came down in this direction. 

Heidi ran straight up to him, with Little Swan and 
Little Bear close behind her, for the goats knew their 
master and their shed. Peter called after Heidi— 

“Come again tomorrow, won't you? Good night!" 

For he was quite set on having Heidi go with him a 
second time. 

Then Heidi flew back to him, gave Peter her hand, and 
promised him that she would come along next day. After¬ 
ward she jumped into the midst of the departing herd, put 
her arms a last time around Snowhopper’s neck, and said— 

“Sleep well, Schneehoppli. Don't forget I'm coming 
again tomorrow and remember you must never again bleat 
so pitifully." 

Sno whopper gave her a friendly look and seemed grate¬ 
ful. And she ran happily ofif after the flock. 

Heidi walked back under the fir trees. 

“O Grandfather," she called out before she had 
reached him, “it was so beautiful—the fire, and the roses 


IN THE PASTURE 


45 

on the cliffs, and the blue and yellow flowers—just see 
what Eve brought you!” 

And thereupon Heidi poured her whole store of flowers 
from her folded apron at her grandfather's feet. But 
how the poor flowers did look! Heidi could no longer 
recognize them. They were all like hay, and not a single 
one of their cups was open. 

“O Grandfather, what's wrong with them?” Heidi 
cried, quite frightened. 'They weren't like that at all— 
why do they look that way now ?” 

"They want to stay out of doors in the sun and not 
rolled up in your apron,” Grandfather said. 

"Then I shan't ever pick any more of them. But, 
Grandfather, why did the bird of prey squawk so?” Heidi 
now asked earnestly. 

"Into the water with you, while I go to the stable and 
get some milk. Then we'll go into the cottage together 
and eat supper. And then I'll tell you all about it.” 

Heidi did as she was asked to. And later, when she 
sat on her high chair with her little bowl of milk before 
her and Grandfather next to her, she returned again to 
her question— 

"Why did the bird of prey croak and scream down 
at us so, Grandfather?” 

"He is laughing at the people down below him who 
crowd into their villages and tease one another. He mocks 
at them and screams, Tf you'd leave one another and climb 
the heights, each his own way, as I do, then you'd be 
happier!' ” 

Grandfather spoke these words almost wildly, so that 


4 6 


HEIDI 


Heidi remembered the screaming of the bird of prey even 
more clearly than before, if such a thing was possible. 

“Why don't the mountains have names, Grandfather ?” 
Heidi asked then. 

“But they have,” he answered. “And' if you can 
describe one so that I can recognize it, I'll tell you what 
its name is.” 

Then Heidi described the rocky mountain and its two 
high towers exactly as she had seen it. And Grandfather, 
well pleased, said— 

“Just right! I know that one. It's called Falcon's 
Nest. Did you see another one?” 

Heidi went on to describe the mountain with the great 
field of snow, the one on which all the snow had been afire, 
and then grown rosy red, and finally without warning had 
got very pale and dead. 

“I recognize that one also,” said Grandfather, “that is 
the Casaplana. You liked it, then, on the pasture, did 
you?” 

Now Heidi told him everything about the whole day— 
how lovely it had all been, and especially the fire toward 
evening. And now Grandfather must tell her, too, where 
that had come from, because Peter had known nothing 
about it. 

“That’s done by the sun, you know,” explained Grand¬ 
father. “When he says good night to the world, he sends 
his very finest beams to the mountains, so they won’t forget 
him before his return in the morning.” 

That pleased Heidi. She felt she could hardly wait 
until another day had come, so that she could go up to the 


IN THE PASTURE 


47 

pasture and again see how the sun said good night to 
the mountains. 

But first she had to go to bed. And she slept soundly 
the whole night through on her couch of hay. And she 
dreamed of nothing but gleaming mountains with red roses 
on them, and in the midst of these little Snowhopper was 
running about with merry leaps. 


CHAPTER IV 
AT THE GRANDMOTHER’S 

The bright sun came again on the following morning. 
And then Peter appeared with his goats. And they all 
went together back up to the pasture. And so it happened 
day after day. 

Heidi got very tanned from this life on the meadow, 
and so strong and healthy that nothing was ever wrong 
with her. And she lived happily from one day to the next 
as only gay little birds can live in all the trees of the green 
woods. 

When it began to be autumn and the wind roared more 
loudly across the mountains, then Grandfather would say 
perhaps— 

“Stay at home today, Heidi. With one puff the wind can 
blow a little thing like you over the cliffs into the valley.” 

When Peter would hear such words in the morning, 
he looked quite miserable, for he could see nothing but 
unhappiness before him. For one thing, he did not know 
what to do when Heidi was not with him. And then he 
missed his generous dinner. Besides, the goats were so 
stubborn on these days that he had twice his usual trouble 
with them. For they were so used to Heidi’s company that 
they would not go ahead without her, but would run away 
in all directions. 

Heidi was never dull, because she always found some¬ 
thing to do that was fun. She would have liked best to go 

48 


AT THE GRANDMOTHER’S 


49 


with the goatherd and his flock off to the meadow, to the 
flowers and the bird of prey. There were so many things 
to learn about all the goats and their different ways. 

But then, her Grandfather’s hammering and sawing 
and carpentry work were very interesting to Heidi. Some¬ 
times it happened that he was making the pretty round 
goat-cheeses on just the day when she was at home. Then 
it was quite specially enjoyable 'to see the remarkable work 
her Grandfather did with both arms bare as he stirred what 
was in the great kettle. 

More to be desired by Heidi than all else, on such 
days of high wind, was the surging and roaring in the 
three old fir trees behind the hut. Whatever she might be 
doing, or wherever she might be, she had to run to them 
from time to time, for nothing in the world was so lovely 
and wonderful as this deep roaring up there in the tree 
tops. Heidi would stand beneath them and listen hard. 
And she never could get her fill of seeing and hearing what 
was waving and heaving and rushing with such power 
among the trees. 

The sun no longer shone as hot as in summer, and Heidi 
hunted out her shoes and stockings and also her little dress. 
For now it kept growing colder. And when Heidi stood 
under the fir trees the wind blew through her as if she 
were a thin leaf. Still she could not bear to stay indoors, 
but kept running out every time she heard the sighing of 
the wind. 

Then it grew cold in earnest, and Peter would blow on 
his hands when he came climbing up early in the morning. 
But not for long. For all of a sudden one night a deep 


50 


HEIDI 


snow fell. And next morning the whole mountain meadow 
was snow white, and there wasn’t a green leaf to be seen 
anywhere, no matter where you looked. 

After this, Peter came no more with his herd, and Heidi 
gazed much astonished out of the small window, for now 
it began to snow again. And the thick flakes fell and fell 
until the snow was so deep that it reached up to the window. 
And then it grew higher yet, so they could not open the 
window at all and they were completely packed away in 
the cottage. 

That seemed very jolly to Heidi, and she kept running 
from one window to another just to see how things were 
getting on and whether the snow was going to cover the 
entire hut so that one would have to light a candle in broad 
day. But it did not come to that, after all. And next day 
Grandfather went out—for it had stopped snowing—and 
shoveled around the whole house. He piled big, big heaps 
of snow on top of one another, so that about the hut it 
looked like a mountain every little way. 

But now the windows and door were free again, and it 
was a good thing they were! For that afternoon as Heidi 
and her Grandfather were sitting on their three-legged 
chairs by the fire—Grandfather had long since made a 
chair for the child — something suddenly staggered up, 
stamped on the wooden threshold, and finally opened the 
door. 

It was Peter the goatherd. 

He had not made such a great noise at the door because 
he was rude, but to stamp the snow from his shoes, which 
were all covered with it. In fact, all of Peter was covered 


AT THE GRANDMOTHER’S 


5i 


with snow, for he had had to push his way so violently 
through the deep drifts that great clumps of snow had 
stuck to him and, because of the sharp cold, had frozen 
fast. But he had not given up his trip, for he wanted to 
go up that day to visit Heidi, whom he had not seen for a 
whole long week. 

“Good afternoon,” he said when he came in. Then 
he placed himself at once as near as possible to the fire and 
had not another word to say—but his whole face lighted 
up with joy to think he was there. Heidi looked at him 
quite puzzled, for now that he was so close to the fire the 
snow began to thaw on him, and Peter looked quite like a 
gentle waterfall. 

“Well, General, how are you getting along?” Grand¬ 
father said then. “Now you are without an army and have 
to nibble at a slate pencil.” 

“Why does he have to bite at a slate pencil, Grand¬ 
father?” Heidi asked at once, curiously. 

“In winter he has to go to school,” the grandfather 
explained. “There you learn to read and write, and that’s 
often so hard that it helps a little if you chew the end of 
your slate pencil. Am I right, General ?” 

“Indeed you are,” said Peter. 

Heidi’s interest in the matter was now awakened, and 
she had a great many questions to ask of Peter about the 
school and everything that happened there—about what 
he saw and heard. And as much time was always spent in 
any talk that Peter took part in, he had a good chance to 
get quite dry from top to toe. It was always hard for him 
to put his ideas into words that would express what he 


52 


HEIDI 


meant. And this time it was harder even than usual, for 
scarcely had he answered one thing, than Heidi would ask 
him two or three more questions which required a whole 
sentence to answer. 

During all this talk the grandfather had kept very 
quiet indeed, but the corners of his mouth had twitched 
several times humorously, which was a sign that he was 
listening. 

“Well, General, now you've been under fire and need 
something to strengthen you. Come, join in with us!” 

Thereupon the grandfather rose from his chair and 
fetched the supper from the cupboard, while Heidi drew 
the chairs up to the table. There was another seat which 
Grandfather had made and nailed fast to the wall. Now 
that he was no longer alone, he had prepared in one place 
and another all sorts of seats for two, because Heidi had 
a way of keeping close to him everywhere, no matter 
what he was doing. 

So all three of them had places to sit, and Peter opened 
his round eyes very wide when he saw what a mighty piece 
of fine dried meat Meadow Nuncle laid on his thick slices 
of bread. Peter had not seen anything so good for a long 
time. When the merry meal was over, it began to get dark, 
and Peter started on his homeward way. When he had 
said good night and “God reward you” and was already 
at the door, he turned around and said— 

“Pm coming again Sunday, a week from today. And 
you must come over to Grandmother's some time. She told 
me to say so.” 

That was quite a new thought for Heidi, that she should 


AT THE GRANDMOTHER'S 


53 

go to somebody's house. But the idea became fixed in her 
mind, and on the very next day her first words were— 

“Grandfather, now I must really go down to see Grand¬ 
mother. She expects me." 

“There is too much snow," Grandfather replied, shaking 
his head. But the idea was fast in Heidi's mind, for, you see, 
Grandmother had sent word to her, and that settled it. So 
not a day passed but that the child said five or six times— 

“Grandfather, I've really got to go now. Grandmother 
is waiting for me." 

On the fourth day it was so cold that out of doors every 
footstep crunched and creaked and the great crust of snow 
all round about was frozen stiff. But the bright sun was 
peeking in at the window right at the high chair in which 
Heidi was sitting at the dinner table, so she began again 
her little speech— 

“Today I've just really got to go to Grandmother's, or 
I'll be putting it off too long." 

Then Grandfather got up from the dinner table, climbed 
up to the hayloft, brought down the thick sack that was the 
coverlet of Heidi’s bed, and said— 

“Come on, then!" 

The child skipped joyfully after him out into the shining 
world of snow. It was now very still in the old fir trees. 
The white snow lay on all the boughs, and the trees 
glistened and sparkled everywhere in the sunshine with 
such glory that Heidi jumped about for joy and called out 
one time after another— 

“Come outside, Grandfather, come on! There is pure 
silver and gold in the fir trees." 


54 


HEIDI 


Grandfather had gone into the workshop and now came 
out with a broad hand-sled. It had a rod fastened to the 
side, and from its flat seat you could thrust your feet out 
in front against the snowy ground and with one or the 
other of them steer in the direction you wanted to go. 

First Grandfather had to examine the fir trees with 
Heidi, and then he sat down on the sled, took the child in 
his lap, bundled her up in the sack so that she would be 
warm as toast, and pressed her tightly to him with his 
left arm, as this was very necessary for the trip they were 
to take. Then with his right hand he seized the rod firmly 
and gave a push with both feet. At that the sled shot 
away down the mountain meadow with such speed that 
Heidi thought it was flying through the air like a bird, and 
she cried out aloud. 

Before you knew it, the sled came to a stop right before 
the hut of Goat Peter. Grandfather set the child on the 
ground, unwrapped her coverings, and said— 

“There you are! Now go in, and when it begins to 
grow dark, come away and start on your way home.” 

Then he turned his sled around and drew it after him 
up the mountain. 

Heidi opened the door and came into a small room which 
looked quite black. There was an open hearth in it and 
some plates on a stand. This was the little kitchen. Then, 
right near, there was another door which Heidi opened, too, 
and which led into a tiny living room. For this was not an 
Alpine hut like Grandfather's, in which there was a single 
large room with a hayloft above. It was rather a very old 
cottage in which everything was small, poor, and shabby. 


AT THE GRANDMOTHER’S 


55 


When Heidi entered the small living room, she stood 
right before a table at which a woman was sitting, mending 
Peter’s jacket. Heidi recognized it at once. In the corner 
an old bent grandmother was sitting and spinning. Heidi 
had no trouble in telling who this was. She went straight 
to the spinning wheel and said— 

“Good day, Grandmother. Pve come to see you at last. 
Did you think I was never coming?” 

The old lady raised her head and reached for the hand 
that was stretched out to her. When she had taken this, 
she first stroked it thoughtfully a little while with her 
own, and then she asked— 

“Are you the child who lives with Meadow Nuncle? 
Is your name Heidi?” 

“Yes, indeed,” the child assured her. “Pve just come 
down the mountain on a sled with my Grandfather.” 

“You don’t say so! But how warm your hand is! Tell 
me, Brigitte, did the Meadow Nuncle himself come down 
with the girl ?” 

Peter’s mother, Brigitte, who had been sewing at the 
table, rose and looked at the girl curiously from head to 
foot. Then she said— 

“I don’t know, Mother, whether the Nuncle came down 
with her or not. It isn’t very probable; perhaps the child 
is mistaken.” 

But Heidi looked at the woman quite decidedly and 
not at all as if she did not know. 

“I know well enough,” she said, “who wrapped me up 
in the bed covering and slid down with me. It was my 
grandfather.” 


5^ 


HEIDI 


“Then there must be something in what Peter was 
telling us all last summer about Meadow Nuncle, even 
if we did not believe him,” the grandmother said. “Who 
would have thought that such a thing was possible? I 
didn’t imagine the child would live up there three weeks. 
How does she look, Brigitte?” 

In the meantime Brigitte had been looking at her from 
every side, so she could tell pretty well what she looked like. 

“She is daintily formed, as Adelheid was,” she replied. 
“But she has black eyes and curly hair like Tobias and the 
old man up there. I think she resembles both of them.” 

Meanwhile Heidi had not been idle. She had peered 
about her and examined closely everything that was to 
be seen. Now she said— 

“Look, Grandmother, there’s a window blind that keeps 
swinging out and back. Grandfather ought to drive a nail 
in it right away to fasten it. If he doesn’t, it will break 
the pane. Just see how it’s acting!” 

“You nice child, you!” the grandmother said. “I can’t 
see the blind, but I can hear it fast enough, and many other 
things, too. It isn’t only the shutter, but everything creaks 
and pounds when the wind blows, and it gets in every 
place. Nothing is tight any more. And often at night, 
when the other two are asleep, I get so terribly afraid 
that the whole house is coming down on our heads and 
will kill the three of us. Alas, there is no one who can 
mend things in the cottage, for Peter doesn’t know how.” 

“But why can’t you see what the blind is doing, Grand¬ 
mother? Look, there it goes again, right over there!” 
Heidi pointed her finger straight at the spot. 


AT THE GRANDMOTHER'S 


57 


“Ah, child, I can't see the least little thing, the blind or 
anything else," the Grandmother said sadly. 

“But suppose I run out and open the blind wide, so that 
it is very light, then you can see, can’t you?" 

“No, no, not even then. No one can ever make it light 
for me again." 

“But if you go out where the snow is all white, then it 
surely will be bright enough. You just come with me, 
Grandmother, and I’ll prove it." 

Heidi took the old lady’s hand and tried to lead her 
away, for she was beginning to worry because it did not 
seem light anywhere to her friend. 

“Just let me sit quietly, you dear child. Things are 
dark to me all the same, even in the snow and the light. 
They do not reach my eyes any more." 

“But it’s different in the summer time, Grandmother," 
said Heidi, still trying to find some way out of the trouble. 
“You know, when the sun shines down hot as anything and 
starts to say good night and the mountains glow as red as 
fire, and all the yellow flowers are gleaming, why, then it 
will be light again for you, won’t it ?" 

“My child, I shall never see them again, the fiery moun¬ 
tains and the golden flowers up there. Never again will 
the earth be bright for me—never again." 

At these words Heidi burst into tears. Full of sorrow, 
she kept sobbing aloud— 

“Who can make things bright for you again, then? 
Can’t somebody do it? Can’t anyone?" 

And then the old lady tried to comfort the child, but 
that was not so easy to do. Heidi almost never cried, but 
5 


58 


HEIDI 


when she once started, then it was almost impossible to 
make her forget her trouble. The grandmother had soon 
tried every means of quieting the child because she could 
not bear to hear her sob so pitifully. She said— 

“Come here, dear Heidi, come to me. Eve got some¬ 
thing to tell you. You know, when a person can’t see 
things, it’s such good fun to hear kind words. And I 
dearly love to hear you talk. Sit down close to me and 
tell me what you do up at your house, and what Grand¬ 
father does. I used to know him well long ago, but I’ve 
heard nothing about him for many years except what 
Peter tells me, and he doesn’t say much.” 

That is when the new idea came to Heidi. She wiped 
her tears away and quickly said, comfortingly— 

“You just wait, Grandmother. I’m going to tell Grand¬ 
father everything. He’ll soon make it light for you again 
and he’ll mend the cottage so it won’t fall down. He can 
put things in fine shape.” 

The old lady said nothing. And then Heidi began to 
tell her excitedly of her life with Grandfather, of the days 
in the pasture, and all about her present winter life. She 
told her what Grandfather could make out of wood— 
benches and chairs, and fine mangers from which Schwanli 
and Barli could eat their hay, and a big new water trough 
to bathe in summers, and a new milk bowl and spoon. 
Heidi grew more and more eager in describing the pretty 
things which could be made in a jiffy out of a piece of 
wood. She said she always stood right by Grandfather 
and watched him closely. For sometime she was going to 
do all those things herself. The Grandmother listened 


AT THE GRANDMOTHER'S 59 

with great interest, and from time to time would interrupt 
to ask— 

“Do you hear all this, Brigitte? Do you hear what 
she’s saying about Nuncle?” 

Suddenly the tale was broken off by a great clatter at 
the door, and Peter came stamping in. But he stopped at 
once and opened his round eyes wide in surprise when 
he saw Heidi. And he made the happiest face you can 
imagine as she cried out quickly, “Good afternoon, Peter!” 

“My, is it possible he’s out of school so soon!” the 
grandmother called in great astonishment. “No afternoon 
has gone so quickly for many a year. Good afternoon, 
dear Peter! How goes the reading?” 

“Just like always,” Peter answered. 

“Oh, oh,” said the grandmother, with a gentle sigh, 
“I had hoped there’d be a change by the time you were 
almost twelve years old. And your birthday’s in February.” 

“Why must there be a change, Grandmother?” Heidi 
asked with sudden interest. 

“I just hoped that he might be able to learn more in his 
reading,” said Grandmother. “I have an old prayer book 
up there on the shelf, and there are such pretty hymns in 
it. I haven’t heard them for such a long time and I cannot 
remember them any more. I had hoped Peter would learn 
so that he could read a hymn to me sometimes. But he 
can’t learn. It is too hard for him.” 

“I believe I must make a light, it’s already growing 
quite dark,” now said Peter’s mother, who all this time had 
been busily patching his jacket. “The afternoon has slipped 
away for me, too, before I noticed it.” 


6o 


HEIDI 


Then Heidi sprang up from her little chair, put out her 
hand hastily, and said— 

“Good night, Grandmother. I must go home right 
away, now that it's growing dark.” 

She offered her hand in turn to Peter and his mother 
and walked to the door. 

“Wait, wait, Heidi! You can't go alone that way. Peter 
will have to go with you, do you hear? And be careful, 
Peter dear, that the child doesn’t stumble. And don’t stand 
still so she’ll freeze, remember! And has she got a good 
thick muffler around her neck?” 

“I haven’t any old muffler,” Heidi called back, “but I 
shan’t freeze.” Thereupon she flashed out of the door and 
scurried away so fast that Peter could scarcely catch up 
with her. 

But the grandmother cried out urgently— 

“Run right after her, Brigitte, run quickly! The child 
is sure to freeze out in the night that way—hurry, won’t 
you?” 

Brigitte did as she was told. But the children had gone 
only a few steps up the mountain when they saw Grand¬ 
father coming down to meet them. He reached them in a 
few long strides. 

“That’s nice, Heidi. You’ve kept your promise,” he 
said. He bundled up the child again tightly in her cover¬ 
ing, raised her in his arms, and set off up the mountain. 
Brigitte had been just in time to see the old man wrap the 
child up well, lift her into his arms, and set out on his 
homeward journey. She went back into the cottage with 
Peter and told the grandmother with amazement what she 


AT THE GRANDMOTHER’S 


61 


had seen. The old lady was also very much surprised and 
kept repeating— 

“God be praised and thanked that he feels that way 
toward the child! Praise God, indeed! If he will only let 
her come to me again! The child did me so much good. 
What a kind heart she has!” 

And until she went to bed that night she kept saying— 

“If she will only come again! For now when I least 
expected it there is still something left in the world to 
give me joy.” 

And each time Brigitte would agree with her, while 
Peter would nod his head and grin widely with pleasure 
and say— 

“I told you so.” 

In the meantime Heidi inside of her sack kept up a 
constant chatter. But as her voice could not be heard 
through the eight folds of her covering, and Grandfather 
therefore did not understand a word she said, he called 
to her— 

“Wait a little while until we are home. Then you can 
tell me.” 

As soon, then, as he had reached the hut up on top and 
had peeled off Heidi’s wraps, she began— 

“Grandfather, tomorrow we’ll have to take the ham¬ 
mer and some big nails along with us and fasten the 
shutter in Grandmother’s house. We’ll have to drive a 
lot more nails, too, for everything creaks and rattles at her 
place.” 

“Have to, eh? We must do that, must we? Who said 
so?” Grandfather asked. 


62 


HEIDI 


“Nobody said so. I just know it, that’s all,” Heidi 
replied, “because everything is loose. And it makes Grand¬ 
mother terribly anxious when things rattle so she can’t 
sleep. And she thinks, 'Now everything is going to tumble 
down on our heads.’ And you can’t make things light for 
Grandmother any more. At least, she doesn’t see how 
anyone can, but you can do it, Grandfather, I’m sure. 
Just think how sad it is for her to be always in the dark. 
And she gets so scared. And no one but you can help 
her. Tomorrow we’ll go and help her, won’t we, Grand¬ 
father?” 

Heidi had clung fast to her grandfather and was look¬ 
ing up at him in perfect trust. The old man gazed down at 
the child awhile and then said— 

“Yes, Heidi, we’ll fix things so that nothing more 
rattles in Grandmother’s house. And we’ll do it 
tomorrow.” 

The child started to jump for joy all around the big 
room and to cry out one time after another— 

“We’re going to do it tomorrow, tomorrow!” 

And her grandfather kept his promise. The next after¬ 
noon they took the same ride on the sled. Just as on 
the previous day, the old man set the child down before 
Goat Peter’s door and said, “Now go in, and when it gets 
to be night, come back.” Then he laid the sack on the sled 
and went around the house. 

Heidi had scarcely opened the door and jumped into 
the room when from the corner Grandmother called out 
happily— 

“There comes the child! There’s the blessed child!” 


AT THE GRANDMOTHER’S 


63 

In her great joy she dropped the thread and stopped 
the wheel and stretched out both hands to the girl. Heidi 
ran to her, dragged at once the low stool quite near to 
her, sat down on it, and again had a whole lot of things to 
tell Grandmother about and to ask of her. 

But just then there started such an awful pounding on 
the house that Grandmother was terribly frightened. She 
almost knocked over the spinning wheel, she trembled so. 
She cried out— 

“Oh, deary me! It’s come at last. It’s all falling to 
pieces.” 

But Heidi took her firmly by the arm and said com¬ 
fortingly— 

“No, no, Grandmother. Don’t be afraid, it’s only 
Grandfather with his hammer. He’s mending things so 
you won’t worry any longer.” 

“Oh, you don’t mean it! Is it possible? Then the dear 
God has not quite forgotten us,” Grandmother exclaimed. 
“Did you hear what that is, Brigitte, did you hear? It’s 
a hammer, as sure as you live! Go and see, Brigitte, and 
if it’s the Meadow Nuncle, tell him he must come in a 
minute and let me thank him.” 

Brigitte went out. Meadow Nuncle was that moment 
driving new logs into the wall with great force. Brigitte 
went up to him and said— 

“A good afternoon to you, Nuncle, from Mother and 
me. We are grateful to you for your work. And Mother 
is eager to thank you for herself indoors. No one else 
would be so kind to us, and we want to thank you, for 
surely—” 


6 4 


HEIDI 


“Cut it short,” the old gentleman interrupted her. “I 
know exactly what you think of the Meadow Nuncle. You 
just go back again. I can find what needs doing without 
help.” 

Brigitte obeyed at once, for Nuncle had a way with him 
that was not easy to resist. He pounded and hammered 
all around the cottage. Then he mounted the narrow 
ladder that led to the roof and kept up his hammering 
until he had used up the last nail he had brought with him. 

In the meantime it had begun to be dark again. But 
he had scarcely climbed down and drawn his sled out from 
behind the goat shed, when Heidi came out of the door. 
He wrapped her up, as he had done the day before, and 
took her in his arms, drawing the empty sled behind him. 
For if she had sat on it all alone, her coverings might 
have fallen off, and Heidi would have nearly frozen, per¬ 
haps quite so. Grandfather well knew that and kept the 
child warm in his arms. 

Thus the winter passed away. Joy had come after the 
long years into the dreary life of the old blind lady. And 
her days were no more long and dark, each one like the 
day before it, for she had now always something to look 
forward to. The very first thing in the morning she was 
listening for the tripping footstep. And when the door 
finally did open and the child came really dancing in, then 
she never failed to cry out joyfully— 

“Heaven be praised! There she comes again.” 

Then Heidi would sit down close to her and chatter 
away so happily about everything that she knew, that 
Grandmother was always pleased. The hours flew by so 


AT THE GRANDMOTHER’S 65 

fast she did not notice them. And not one single time did 
she ask, as she used to— 

“Brigitte, isn’t the day over yet?” 

But each time that Heidi had closed the door after her, 
Grandmother would say— 

“Why, how short the afternoon has been, Brigitte!” 
And the daughter would answer— 

“It has, hasn’t it ? Seems as if we had hardly put away 
the dinner plates.” 

And then Grandmother would say after that— 

“If the Lord God will only keep the child safe for me 
and will keep Meadow Nuncle in a good humor. Does 
she look healthy, Brigitte?” 

Each time the daughter would answer— 

“She looks like a strawberry apple.” 

And Heidi, for her part, had a great affection for the 
old grandmother. Whenever she remembered that no one, 
not even her grandfather, could make things bright for 
her again, a great sadness always swept over her. But 
Grandmother would always tell Heidi that she suffered 
least when the child was with her, and so Heidi went 
down on her sled to see her every fine winter day. 

Grandfather continued to take her without saying a 
word against it. Each time he took his hammer and all 
sorts of other things along. And many a long afternoon 
he pounded away at the cottage of Goat Peter. This work 
had one good effect, too—there was no more creaking 
and rattling through the night. Grandmother said that she 
had not been able to sleep for many a long winter, and she 
would never forget to be grateful to Nuncle for his help. 


CHAPTER V 

ONE VISIT, AND THEN ANOTHER 

The winter had passed quickly, and even more rapidly 
the happy summer that followed it. And now another 
winter was already drawing to its close. 

Heidi was as happy and cheerful as the birds of the air, 
and each day she was looking forward more eagerly to the 
coming days of spring, when the warm south wind would 
rustle in the fir trees and sweep away the snow. Then the 
bright sun would call forth the blue and yellow flowers, and 
the days of the pasture would return. These were the days 
that brought Heidi the best gift the earth could give. 

Heidi was now in her eighth year. She had learned 
from her grandfather how to do all sorts of useful things. 
She knew how to get along with the goats as no one else 
could. And Little Swan and Little Bear followed her 
around like faithful dogs, bleating aloud their joy when¬ 
ever they heard her voice. 

It was in this winter that Peter had twice brought word 
from the village school teacher of The Hamlet that 
Meadow Nuncle should send the child who lived with him 
to school. For Heidi was already more than old enough 
and by rights ought to have been in school the previous 
winter. Both times Nuncle had sent back the message that 
if the school teacher wanted anything of him he knew 
where he lived; meanwhile he certainly would not send 
the child. This message Peter had duly delivered. 


66 


ONE VISIT, AND THEN ANOTHER 67 

When the March sun had melted the snow on the 
slopes, and the white snowdrops were peeking forth every¬ 
where in the valley, when on the mountain meadow the 
fir trees had shaken off their burden of snow and the 
boughs were again waving merrily, then Heidi in her 
delight kept running back and forth from the house to 
the goat shed. And then she would run from the shed to 
the fir trees, and later to her grandfather inside the cot¬ 
tage to tell him how much larger the piece of green ground 
under the trees had grown. Afterward she would fly 
right back to look again, for she could not wait until 
everything should become green and the fair summer with 
all its flowers again come to the mountain meadow. 

While Heidi on one sunny March morning was run¬ 
ning to and fro in this way and was jumping across the 
threshold for perhaps the tenth time, she was so frightened 
that she almost fell backward into the hut. For suddenly 
she was standing before an old gentleman in black, who 
blinked at her very solemnly. But when he saw her fright, 
he said in a kindly voice— 

“You must not be afraid of me. I am fond of children. 
Give me your hand. You are Heidi, I suppose. Where is 
your grandfather ?” 

“He is sitting at the table carving round spoons out 
of wood,” Heidi replied as she again opened the door. 

It was the old pastor from The Hamlet, who had known 
Nuncle well years before when he lived down below and 
was his neighbor. He stepped into the hut, walked up to the 
old man, who was bent over his wood carving, and said— 

“Good morning, neighbor!” 


68 


HEIDI 


Nuncle looked up in astonishment. And then he got 
to his feet and replied— 

“Good morning to the pastor!” Thereupon he set his 
chair before the old gentleman and continued, “If the 
pastor is not afraid of a wooden seat, here is one.” 

The pastor sat down. “I have not seen you for a long 
time, neighbor,” he went on to say. 

“Nor have I seen you, Pastor,” was the answer. 

“I have come today to talk with you about something,” 
the pastor began again. “I suppose you know what the 
business is which I want to discuss with you. And I’d like 
to hear what you have in mind.” 

The pastor was silent and looked at the child, who was 
standing in the doorway closely watching this strange new 
figure. 

“Go to the goats, Heidi,” Grandfather said. “You 
can take a little salt with you and wait until I come.” 

Heidi vanished at once. 

“That child should have attended school a year ago, 
and she most certainly should have gone this winter,” 
the pastor said after a moment. “The teacher sent you a 
warning about it, but you made no reply. What do you 
intend to do with the child, neighbor?” 

“I intend not to send her to school,” was the answer. 

The pastor gazed in astonishment at the old man, who 
was sitting with folded arms on the bench and did not look 
as if he were going to yield. 

“What are you going to make out of the child?” the 
pastor then asked. 

“Not a thing. She grows and thrives as the goats and 


ONE VISIT, AND THEN ANOTHER 69 

the birds do. She is safe with them and learns not a bit 
of harm. ,, 

“But the child is not a goat and not a bird, she is a 
human being. If she learns nothing bad from these play¬ 
mates of hers, neither does she learn anything else. But 
she ought to be learning something, and the time for that 
is here. I have come to tell you in good season, neighbor, 
so that you can think it over and make your plans during 
the summer. This is to be the last winter that the child 
spends without teaching of any sort. Next winter she’s 
going to school every single day.” 

“I won’t do it, Pastor,” said the old man, stubbornly. 

“Do you actually think, then, that there is no way of 
bringing you to reason, if you stubbornly stick to your 
silly actions?” the pastor asked with some heat. “You 
have traveled around in the world a good deal and had 
your chance to see and learn much. I should have thought 
you had better sense, neighbor.” 

“Oh, indeed!” the old gentleman said. His voice 
showed that he was no longer quite so calm in his mind. 
“And so the pastor believes that next winter I am really 
going to send a tender child on freezing mornings down 
the mountain, six miles’ journey through storm and snow. 
That I’m going to have her come back again at night, 
when it is often blowing and raging so that we ourselves 
would lose our lives in the wind and snow. And, above 
all, a child like her! Perhaps the pastor can still remember 
her mother Adelheid, who walked in her sleep and was 
subject to fits. Is this child to be made to suffer such 
things because of overwork? Just let somebody come 


70 


HEIDI 


and try to drive me to it! Ell take her into any court of 
law there is, and then we’ll see who is going to make me!” 

“And you would be quite right, neighbor,” said the 
pastor in a kindly voice. “It would not be possible to 
send the child to school from here. But I can see the child 
is dear to you. Do for her sake what you should have 
done long ago—come down again to The Hamlet and 
once more live among men. What sort of life is this you 
lead up here, lonely and bitter against God and your kind ? 
Who would help you if anything should happen to you off 
up here ? Nor can I understand why you’re not half frozen 
in your hut all through the winter, and how the tender 
child can stand it.” 

“The child has young blood and a good roof above her, 
I can promise you that, Pastor. And one thing more, I 
know where there is wood and when is a good time to 
fetch it, too. The pastor can take a look in my shed. He 
will see there is enough so that the fire in my hut never 
goes out all winter long. What the pastor says about 
going down to The Hamlet is not for me. The people down 
there despise me and I despise them, so it suits both sides 
to stay apart.” 

“No, no, it is not good for you to do that. I know 
what’s the trouble with you,” the pastor said in a hearty 
voice. “The people down below don’t despise you half so 
much as you think. Believe me, neighbor. Seek to make 
your peace with God. Pray for his forgiveness if you 
feel you need it. Then come and see how differently the 
people look at you, and how happy you can still be with 
them.” 


ONE VISIT, AND THEN ANOTHER 71 

The pastor had stood up. He held his hand out to the 
old gentleman and said again with much heartiness— 

“I count upon having you with us again next winter, 
neighbor. We are old and tried friends. It would make 
me very sorry to have to use force with you. Shake hands 
on it! Come down and live among us again, at peace with 
God and men.” 

Meadow Nuncle offered his hand to the pastor, but he 
said firmly and clearly— 

“The pastor means well with me, but I shall not do as 
he wishes. I can tell him that once and for all. I shall 
not send the child, and I can’t come down myself.” 

“Then God help you!” said the pastor, and went sadly 
out of the door and down the mountain. 

Meadow Nuncle had the blues. When Heidi said, that 
afternoon, “Let’s go to Grandmother’s now,” he answered 
shortly, “Not today.” 

He said nothing more the whole day, and next morn¬ 
ing, as Heidi asked, “Are we going to Grandmother’s 
today ?” his words were as sharp as his tone of voice when 
he said, “We’ll see.” 

But long before the dishes had been put away after 
dinner, another caller appeared in the doorway. It was 
Aunt Dete. She was wearing a pretty hat with a feather 
on it, and a dress that swept up everything on the floor, 
and in the Alpine hut all sorts of things lay around which 
would not help the looks of a dress. 

Nuncle looked at her from top to toe, but said nothing. 
And yet Aunt Dete was intending to have a very friendly 
talk, for she began at once to say nice things. She said 


72 


HEIDI 


Heidi was looking so well that she scarcely knew her any 
longer, and anyone could see that she had been treated 
finely at Grandfather’s. 

She said she had always intended to take the child off 
his hands again, for she knew very well that the little one 
must be in his way. But at the moment she could find no 
place to put her. Since that time, however, she had been 
figuring night and day where she could find a lodging for 
the child. And she had come just today because she had 
heard of a piece of luck for Heidi so good that she could 
hardly believe it. She had gone without delay to arrange 
the matter. It was all as good as settled now that Heidi 
was to be as fortunate as only one in a hundred thousand 
could be. 

Some very rich relatives of her employers, who live in 
almost the finest house in all Frankfort, have an only 
daughter. The poor child has to sit always in a wheel 
chair, for she is lame on one side and otherwise not 
healthy. So she is almost always alone and has to study by 
herself with a teacher. That is quite dreary for her, and, 
besides, she would like to have a playmate in the house. 

There had been a lot of talk about this at the house of 
Dete’s employers, and it would be fine if they could only 
find such a child as the lady who kept house for the relatives 
described. For Dete’s mistress was very sympathetic and 
wanted to find a good playmate for the sick daughter. 

Now the housekeeper had said they wanted a really 
unspoiled child, an unusual child who wasn’t like every 
one you saw on a day’s march. Right then Dete had 
thought of Heidi, and she had run straight to the lady and 


ONE VISIT, AND THEN ANOTHER 73 

told her all about Heidi and her character, and like a flash 
the lady had agreed. Now nobody could tell just what 
luck and happiness might be preparing for Heidi, because 
after she was once there and the people liked her, and 
something might possibly happen to their own daughter— 
you just couldn’t tell, she was so weakly—and if the 
people did not want to remain without a child, then per¬ 
haps the most unheard-of luck might— 

“Are you almost through?” Nuncle interrupted her. 
He had not got a single word in edgewise. 

“Bah!” Dete threw back at him, tossing her head. 
“You act just as if I’d been telling you the most ordinary 
news. Why, there isn’t high and low in all Prattigau a 
single person who would not thank his lucky stars if I’d 
brought him such news as I have you.” 

“Tell it wherever you want to, I don’t care to hear it,” 
Nuncle said dryly. 

Then Dete flew into a rage and said— 

“All right, if that’s what you think, Nuncle, then I’ll 
just tell you how I think about things. The child is now 
eight years old, and she can’t do a thing, and she knows 
nothing, and you won’t let her learn anything. They tell 
me down in The Hamlet that you won’t send her to school 
or to church, and yet she is my only sister’s child. 

“I have to see that she is well brought up. And when a 
child can have the good luck that Heidi can, then there’s 
only one person to stand in the way, and that’s a man who 
likes nobody and wishes nobody well. 

“But I tell you I won’t give in. The people are all on 
my side. There isn’t a single one down in The Hamlet 


6 


74 


HEIDI 


who won’t help me and who isn’t against you. And if you 
want the thing to come before the court, perhaps, then 
you just look out, Nuncle! There are some matters which 
could be warmed up there that you wouldn’t like to hear. 
For when you once have to do with the law, then lots of 
things come out that everybody has forgotten.” 

“Silence!” thundered Nuncle, and his eyes flashed like 
fire. “Take her and spoil her. Never come with her into 
my sight again. I never want to see her with such feathers 
on her head and such words in her mouth as you have 
today.” 

Nuncle left the house with great strides. 

“You’ve made Grandfather angry,” Heidi said. Her 
black eyes gleamed at her aunt in no friendly way. 

“He’ll be all right again soon. Come on now,” the 
aunt said, urgently, “where are your clothes?” 

“I’m not coming,” said Heidi. 

“What’s that you say?” the aunt said angrily. But 
then she changed her tone a little and went on half kindly, 
half vexedly— 

“Hurry and come, you just don’t know any better. You 
can’t think what a fine time you’re going to have.” 

Then she went to the cupboard, took out Heidi’s things, 
and wrapped them together. 

“Come on now, pick up your little hat there. It doesn’t 
look pretty, but it’s got to do this time. Put it on and 
hurry along.” 

“I’m not coming,” Heidi repeated. 

“Don’t be stupid and silly like a goat. You must have 
caught it from them. Just get things straight, can’t you? 


ONE VISIT, AND THEN ANOTHER 75 

Grandfather is angry now. Didn’t you hear him say we 
should never cross his sight again? Now he wants you to 
go with me and you musn’t make him even angrier. You 
can’t guess how fine it is in Frankfort and all the things 
you’ll see there. And if you don’t like it you can come 
back home again. By that time Grandfather won’t be 
cross any longer.” 

“Can I turn straight back and come home tonight?” 
Heidi asked. 

“Oh, pshaw, come on! Haven’t I said you can go home 
whenever you want to? Today we’ll go down as far as 
Mayenfeld, and early tomorrow we’ll be on the train. In 
that you can be home again afterward in a hurry. The 
train just flies along.” 

Aunt Dete had put the bundle of clothes under her 
arm. She took Heidi by the hand. And so they went 
down the mountain. 

It was not time for pasturing yet, and so Peter went 
down to school in The Hamlet, or at least he was supposed 
to go. But he took a day off now and then, because he 
thought there was no use in going to school. You didn’t 
need to read things, but you did need to go around hunting 
for big rods, since you could make use of them. Thus he 
was just coming up near his hut from off one side, bearing 
with him the result of his day’s work in the immense 
bundle of long, thick hazel-rods that he carried on his 
shoulder. He stood still and stared at the two who were 
coming to meet him until they overtook him. 

“Where are you going?” he said. 

“I have to go in a great hurry to Frankfort with my 


76 


HEIDI 


aunt,” Heidi answered. “But first Fll go to see Grand¬ 
mother. She is waiting for me.” 

“No, no, by no means, it is too late this minute,” the 
aunt said hastily, as she held the struggling Heidi fast by 
the hand. “You can go to see her when you come home 
again. Hurry up now!” 

Thereupon the aunt dragged Heidi firmly along with 
her and did not lose hold of her for a moment, because she 
feared that if the child went into the house she might again 
decide not to go away, and the old lady might stand by her. 
Peter ran into the cottage and pounded with his whole 
bundle of rods on the table so terribly that everything 
started to shake. The grandmother jumped up frightened 
from her spinning wheel and wailed out loud. Peter had 
to find some expression for his feelings. 

“Why, what’s the matter! What’s the matter?” the 
old lady cried excitedly. 

The mother, who had been sitting at the table and had 
almost jumped out of her chair at the awful noise, said with 
her customary patience— 

“What ails you, Peter dear ? Why do you act so wildly ?” 

“Because she has taken Heidi away,” Peter declared. 

“Who has, Peterli? And where has she gone?” asked 
the grandmother, again all a-tremble. But she seemed 
to guess quickly what was going on. Her daughter had 
told her not long before that she had seen Dete on her 
way up to Meadow Nuncle’s. Trembling in her haste, the 
old lady opened the window and cried out pitifully— 

“Dete, Dete, don’t take the child away from us! Don’t 
take Heidi away!” 


ONE VISIT, AND THEN ANOTHER 77 

The two travelers heard her voice. Dete doubtless sus¬ 
pected what she was calling, for she seized the child more 
firmly than ever and walked as fast as she could. Heidi 
struggled and said— 

“Grandmother called me. I want to go to her.” 

But that was exactly what the aunt did not want. She 
calmed the child and said they must hurry right along now 
or the> would be too late, but that the next morning they 
would go on traveling and Heidi could then see if she did 
not like it so well in Frankfort that she never wished to 
leave it again. And if it turned out that she was homesick 
in spite of everything, then she could come back at once 
and find something to bring Grandmother that would make 
her happy. This last thought pleased Heidi. She began 
to go on without a struggle. 

“What can I bring back to Grandmother?” she asked 
after a while. 

“Something nice,” the aunt said. “She would like some 
lovely, soft white rolls. You see, she can hardly eat hard 
black bread any longer.” 

“Oh, yes,” Heidi agreed. “She always hands it back 
to Peter and says, ‘IPs too hard for me.’ Eve seen her do 
it. We’ll have to hurry, won’t we, Aunt Dete? And then 
perhaps we’ll get to Frankfort today and I’ll be home 
with the rolls all the sooner.” 

Heidi now began to run along so fast that her aunt, 
with the bundle under her arm, could scarcely keep up with 
her. But Dete was very glad they walked so fast, for they 
were now approaching the first house of Dorfli. And there 
would again probably be all sorts of questions and talk 


78 


HEIDI 


which would set Heidi to thinking. Therefore she 
hastened straight through The Hamlet, with the child 
tugging so hard at her hand that everyone could see Dete 
was hurrying because the child wanted her to. So she 
only had to answer all the questions called out to her from 
window and doorway— 

“Don’t you see, I can’t stop a minute? The child’s in 
such a hurry and we have a long way to go.” 

“Are you taking her back with you? Is she running 
away from Meadow Nuncle? It’s a wonder he didn’t kill 
her. And yet, what red cheeks she has!” 

That is what they heard from every side. Ah, Dete 
was glad to get through The Hamlet without stopping and 
having to explain things—glad, too, that Heidi said not 
a word but kept pushing straight on with all her might.— 

From that day on whenever he came down and passed 
through the village, Meadow Nuncle’s face was darker 
than ever before. He spoke to nobody. With his cheese 
basket on his back, his mighty staff in his hand, and his 
thick eyebrows drawn close together, he looked so for¬ 
bidding that mothers would call to their little children— 

“Look out! Get out of Meadow Nuncle’s way or he 
may harm you.” 

The old man had no business with anyone in The 
Hamlet. He only passed through it on his way far down 
into the valley, where he got rid of his cheeses and bought 
his stock of bread and meat. Whenever he had in such 
fashion passed through The Hamlet, people would gather 
in groups and stare after him. And you may be sure that 
each one had seen something strange in Meadow Nuncle. 


ONE VISIT, AND THEN ANOTHER 79 


They all agreed that he looked more savage, that he took 
no notice of anyone, that Heidi had been very lucky to 
escape from him, and that it was no wonder she had fled 
away from him as if she were afraid the old man was 
pursuing her to bring her back. 

Only the blind grandmother still kept her belief in 
Meadow Nuncle. She never failed to tell each person who 
came up to her house to bring spinning, or to take away 
what she had spun, how good he had been to the child and 
how careful of her. She would tell what he had done for 
herself and her daughter, how many afternoons he had 
patched at their cottage, which without his help would 
surely have fallen down by now. In this way the news 
came down to the village. But most of those who heard 
it said that the old lady was probably too old to know 
what she was talking about. Perhaps she couldn’t hear 
well any more, just as she couldn’t see. 

The Meadow Nuncle no longer appeared at the house 
of Goat Peter. It was a good thing he had mended the hut 
so well, because it was not touched again for a long time. 

Nowadays the blind grandmother began each new day 
with sighs, and not one went by that she did not 
complain— 

''Oh, when the child went, everything happy and good 
was taken away from us, and these days are so empty! 
I wish I might hear Heidi’s voice once again before I die.” 


CHAPTER VI 
BRAND NEW EXPERIENCES 

In the house of Mr. Sesemann in Frankfort, Clara, 
the little invalid, was lying in her comfortable wheel chair. 
In this she spent the whole day and was pushed from one 
room to another. 

At this moment she was in the library, as they called it, 
which, was next to the big dining room. All the articles 
that furnished the room were made for comfort rather than 
for show, which proved that it was used as a living room. 
You could see how it had been named from the great 
beautiful bookcase with glass doors, and knew this must be 
the spot where the little lame girl had her lessons every day. 

Clara had a pale, narrow face from Which two mild 
blue eyes looked out. At this moment they were turned 
toward the large wall clock, which seemed to be going 
very slowly today. That is why Clara, who was almost 
never impatient, was saying with some uneasiness in her 
voice— 

“Isn’t it time even yet, Miss Rottenmeier ?” 

Miss Rottenmeier was sitting very straight beside 
a small sewing table and doing embroidery. She had 
around her a queer sort of wrap, a kind of large cape or 
half cloak which gave her a solemn look, and this effect was 
increased by something like a high cupola that she wore 
on her head. Since the death of Clara’s mother several 
years before this, Miss Rottenmeier had been housekeeper 


80 


BRAND NEW EXPERIENCES 


81 


in the Sesemann home and had had entire charge of the 
servants. Mr. Sesemann was traveling most of the time 
and therefore left the whole house in Miss Rottenmeier’s 
care. But he had made one condition, and this was that 
his young daughter should have a say in all things, and 
that nothing should be done against her wishes. 

Clara had just asked Miss Rottenmeier a second time if 
it was not high time for their guests to arrive. At that 
very moment Dete, with Heidi’s hand in hers, was stand¬ 
ing downstairs at the front door and asking John, the 
coachman, who had got down from his seat, if he thought 
she might disturb Miss Rottenmeier at so late an hour. 

“That is not my affair,” growled the coachman. “Ring 
for Sebastian to come down, inside in the hall.” 

Dete did as she was told. And the butler came down 
the stairs. He had big round buttons on his livery coat 
and big round eyes almost as large in his head. 

“I wanted to ask if I might disturb Miss Rottenmeier 
at this late hour,” Dete inquired again. 

“That is no affair of mine,” the butler replied. “Ring 
for Tinette, the maid, at the other bell.” And without 
another word Sebastian disappeared. 

Dete rang a second time. And then there appeared 
at the head of the stairs Mamsell Tinette, with a dazzling 
white linen cap perched on top of her head, and with a 
proud look on her face. 

“What do you want?” she called, without coming down. 
Dete repeated her question. Mamsell Tinette went away, 
but soon came back and called down the stairs— 

“You are expected.” 


82 


HEIDI 


Dete and Heidi then climbed the steps and followed 
Tinette into the library. Here Dete remained politely 
standing in the doorway, holding Heidi tightly by the 
hand, for she was not at all sure what the child might 
decide to do in this place that w'as so strange to her. 

Miss Rottenmeier rose slowly from her chair and went 
over to study the newly arrived playmate of the daughter 
of the house. The result of her stares did not seem to 
please her. Heidi was wearing her simple cotton dress and 
her old crushed straw hat. The child peered at her inno¬ 
cently from under the hat and looked with open amazement 
at the high tower of hair on the lady’s head. 

“What’s your name?” Miss Rottenmeier asked after 
she had examined for several minutes the child, who never 
turned her eyes away from her. 

“Heidi,” came the clear answer in a ringing voice. 

“What ? What ? Why, that’s not a Christian name at 
all. Then you can’t have been baptized. What name did 
they give you when you were baptized?” Miss Rottenmeier 
asked again. 

“I can’t remember any longer,” Heidi replied. 

“What sort of answer is that?” remarked the lady, 
shaking her head. “Mamsell Dete, is the child silly or 
pert?” 

“Begging your pardon, and if the lady will permit me, 
I will do the talking for the child, for she is very shy,” 
said Dete, but not until she had secretly poked Heidi for 
her foolish answer. “But you must not think her silly 
or pert either, for she doesn’t know how to be. She means 
exactly what she says. Only, today’s the first time she’s 


BRAND NEW EXPERIENCES 


83 


been in a great house and she doesn’t know good manners. 
She is willing and not stupid, if the lady will be kind and 
patient with her. She was baptized Adelheid, like her 
mother before her, my dead sister.” 

“Oh, very well! There’s a name at last that can be 
pronounced,” said Miss Rottenmeier. “But, Mamsell 
Dete, I must really tell you the child looks odd to me for 
her age. I informed you, you know, that Miss Clara’s 
companion should be of her own age, so she could follow 
the same studies and share all her occupations. Miss 
Clara is already past twelve. How old is your child?” 

“Begging the lady’s pardon,” Dete began again glibly, 
“I just couldn’t quite figure out how old she was. She is 
really a little younger, but not enough to count. I can’t 
say exactly, but she is about ten, or perhaps a little more.” 

“I am eight years old now. Grandfather said so,” 
Heidi declared. Her aunt nudged her again, but Heidi 
had no idea why she did so, and was not in the least 
embarrassed. 

“What is that? Only eight years old!” cried Miss 
Rottenmeier quite indignantly. “Four years too few, why, 
what can that mean! And what have you learned, pray ? 
What books did you use in your classes?” 

“No books,” said Heidi. 

“Eh, what ?” asked the lady again. “Then how did you 
learn to read ?” 

“I didn’t learn to, and Peter didn’t, either,” Heidi 
stated. 

“Heavenly powers! You can’t read, you really can’t?” 
cried Miss Rottenmeier in the greatest horror. “You 


84 


HEIDI 


don’t mean to say you don’t read! What did you learn, 
then?” 

“Nothing,” said Heidi, which was the truth. 

“Mamsell Dete,” said Miss Rottenmeier after a few 
minutes spent in trying to calm herself, “this is not at 
all as agreed upon. How could you bring this creature 
to me ?” 

But Dete was not so easily frightened. She answered 
eagerly— 

“Begging the lady’s pardon, this child is just what I 
thought she wanted. The lady told me just what she 
must be, quite out of the usual run and not like other 
children. That’s why I had to take this little one. For, 
you see, the bigger ones at home are nothing uncommon, 
and I thought this child fitted your needs perfectly. But 
I must be going now, for my mistress is expecting me. If 
she permits me to, I’ll come again soon and see how the 
child turns out.” 

With a curtsy Dete was out of the door and down 
the stairs as fast as she could go. Miss Rottenmeier 
hesitated a moment and then ran after Dete. For she 
remembered there was a lot of things she wanted to talk 
over with the aunt, if the child was really going to stay 
there. And there the child was at any rate. And it was 
plain the aunt had determined to leave her. 

Heidi had not moved from the place by the door where 
she had been standing from the beginning. Up to now 
Clara had been watching everything silently from her 
chair. She waived to Heidi and said — 


“Come here.” 


BRAND NEW EXPERIENCES 85 

Heidi walked over to the wheel chair. 

“Would you rather be called Heidi or Adelheid?” Clara 
asked. 

“My name’s Heidi and nothing more,” was the child’s 
answer. 

“Then I’ll always call you that,” said Clara. “It’s a 
nice name for you, but I never heard it before. And I 
never saw a child that looks like you, either. Have you 
always had such short curly hair?” 

“Yes, I think so,” Heidi answered. 

“Did you like to come to Frankfort?” Clara went on 
to ask. 

“No. But tomorrow I’m going back home again to 
carry Grandmother some white rolls,” Heidi explained. 

“You’re a funny child,” Clara burst out. “They 
brought you to Frankfort on purpose to be with me and 
study with me. And, don’t you see? it’s going to be lots 
of fun, because you can’t read at all and our study hours 
will be quite different. They have often been so terribly 
tiresome, and the morning just never would end. 

“For, you see, at ten o’clock every morning the Herr 
Kandidat comes. And then the lessons begin and last until 
two o’clock, and that is so long. Even Mr. Candidate 
often raises the book up to his face, just as if he had sud¬ 
denly become shortsighted, but he is only yawning terribly 
behind it. And Miss Rottenmeier, too, takes out her big 
handkerchief from time to time and covers her whole face 
with it, as if she were much affected by something we were 
reading. But I know well enough that she is only yawning 
terribly behind it. And then I have to yawn also, awfully, 


86 


HEIDI 


but have to keep swallowing it, for if I come out with only 
one single yawn Miss Rottenmeier runs at once and gets 
the cod-liver oil, pretending that I am growing faint. Tak¬ 
ing cod-liver oil is the most horrible thing in the world, so 
of course I prefer to swallow my yawns. But now it will be 
lots more fun, since I can listen while you are learning to 
read.” 

Heidi shook her head very doubtfully at this talk of 
her learning to read. 

“But, look here, Heidi, of course you have to learn to 
read. Everybody does. And the Herr Kandidat is very 
kind, he’s never cross, and, besides, he explains everything 
to you. Only, remember that when you don’t understand 
what he’s explaining, you must wait and say nothing. 
If you don’t, he’ll explain a lot more, and then you under¬ 
stand less than ever. But afterward, when you’ve learned 
something and know it, then you’ll understand all right 
what he has been meaning.” 

Just at this point Miss Rottenmeier returned to the 
room. She had not been able to call Dete back and was 
very much excited by this fact. For she had had no chance 
to go into details as to what the child was lacking. And 
as she did not know how to undo what she had done, she 
was all the more excited, as she had proposed the entire 
affair of securing the companion. 

So now she trotted from the library to the dining room, 
and then right back again, and here she met Sebastian, 
whose round eyes at this moment were glancing around 
the table which he had set to see if there was anything 
wrong with his work. 


BRAND NEW EXPERIENCES 87 

“Save your deep thoughts up for tomorrow. Just see 
that we get to dinner some time today/’ 

With these words Miss Rottenmeier passed by 
Sebastian and called to Tinette in so unpleasant a voice 
that the maid came mincing in with even shorter steps 
than usual. She planted herself before the housekeeper 
with so mocking a look on her face that even Miss 
Rottenmeier did not dare to chide her. But she grew all 
the angrier inside. 

“The guest room must be put in order, Tinette/’ the 
lady said, struggling hard to appear calm. “Everything 
is ready. Just dust the furniture off.” 

“That is worth doing,” Tinette mocked, and departed. 

Meanwhile Sebastian had opened the double doors of 
the library with quite a crash. He was very angry, but 
he did not dare express his feelings by answering back to 
Miss Rottenmeier. Then he walked quietly into the library 
to push out the wheel chair. While he was straightening 
the handle behind the chair, which had got displaced, he 
noticed that Heidi had placed herself in front of him and 
was staring at him without blinking. Suddenly he burst 
out — 

“Well, what is there so strange about that?” 

He growled at Heidi in a way that he would not have 
done if he had seen Miss Rottenmeier. She was stand¬ 
ing on the threshold and just about to enter the room, 
when Heidi replied — 

“Thou lookest like Goat Peter.” 

Horrified, the lady clasped her hands. “Well, I never!” 
she groaned half aloud. “Actually, she is saying thou to 


88 


HEIDI 


the servants! The creature lacks the least idea of good 
manners.” 

The chair came rolling along. Clara was lifted out 
and set on her chair by the table. 

Miss Rottenmeier took her place next to Clara and 
motioned to Heidi to take the place opposite. No one else 
came to dinner, and there was enough room for the three 
to sit far apart and for Sebastian to offer his service tray. 
A fine white roll lay beside Heidi’s plate and the child cast 
a happy glance at it. Sebastian looked so much like Goat 
Peter that he seemed to have won her entire confidence in 
him, for she sat as still as a mouse and did not move a 
muscle until he had come to her with his large tray and 
offered her the baked fish. Then she pointed to the roll 
and said— 

“Can I have that ?” 

Sebastian nodded and looked sidewise at Miss Rot¬ 
tenmeier, for he was wondering what sort of effect the 
question would make upon her. Without delay Heidi 
seized her roll and put it in her pocket. Sebastian made 
an awful face in order to keep from laughing, but he knew 
well enough that that was not allowed. Mute and without 
moving, he kept his position by Heidi, for he could not 
speak. On the other hand, he could not go away until she 
had served herself some of the fish. Heidi looked at him 
awhile in surprise, and then she asked— 

“Am I to eat some of that, too?” 

Sebastian nodded a second time. 

“Then give it to me,” she said, and gazed calmly at her 
plate. 


BRAND NEW EXPERIENCES 


89 


The strange look on Sebastian’s face was becoming 
very serious. The tray that he had in his hands began to 
shake. 

“You may set your tray on the table and come back 
again afterward,” Miss Rottenmeier said in a severe 
manner. 

Sebastian vanished at once. 

“I see, Adelheid, that I must teach you a few things 
about behavior,” Miss Rottenmeier continued, with a sigh. 
“First of all I shall show you how to serve yourself at 
dinner.” 

Thereupon the lady showed Heidi plainly and in detail 
everything that she had to do. 

“And then,” she went on, “I must say that you are not 
to talk to Sebastian at the table unless you wish to give 
him an order or have some question that you must ask 
him. In that case, address him with 'you’ or 'he’ and 
never with the hateful 'thou.’ Let me never again hear 
you call him that! Tinette you will also call 'you’ or Mam- 
sell Tinette. Clara herself will decide how she wishes to 
have you address her.” 

“Why, Clara, of course,” said the daughter of the 
house. 

And then there followed a number of teachings as to 
how Heidi should get up in the morning and go to bed at 
night, how she should go out and come in, should keep 
things in order, should close doors behind her. And dur¬ 
ing all this talk Heidi’s eyes were closing, for she had risen 
at five that morning and had made a long journey. She 
leaned against the back of her chair and fell asleep. When, 
7 


90 


HEIDI 


after a long time, Miss Rottenmeier Had finally reached 
the end of her teachings, she said — 

“Now think about what I have told you, Adelheid. 
Have you got the straight of everything ?” 

“Heidi’s been asleep ever so long,” said Clara in high 
glee. The supper time had not passed away so happily 
since she could remember. 

“Well, I never heard of anything like this child!” 
Miss Rottenmeier cried in great excitement. And then 
she rang the bell so violently that Tinette and Sebastian 
came running in together. But in spite of all this noise 
Heidi did not wake up. And they had the greatest trouble 
to arouse her enough so she could be got to her bedroom, 
first through the library, then through Clara’s bedroom, 
then through Miss Rottenmeier’s apartment to the corner 
room which had been made ready for Heidi. 


CHAPTER VII 

MISS ROTTENMEIER HAS A TIRING DAY 

When Heidi opened her eyes on that first morning in 
Frankfort, she could not make up her mind at all what she 
was looking at. She rubbed her eyes as hard as she could, 
then peered out again and saw the same things as before. 

She found that she was sitting up in a high white bed. 
And before her was a big wide room, and where the light 
came in there hung very long white curtains. Near by 
stood two chairs with large flowers on them, then came 
a sofa with the same flowers by the wall and a round 
table before it, and in the corner stood a wash table with 
things on it the like of which Heidi had never seen in her 
life. 

But then, all at once, she remembered she was in Frank¬ 
fort. The previous day came back to her mind, and finally 
even the clear teachings the lady had given her, at least so 
far as she had heard them. 

Heidi sprang from her bed and dressed herself. First 
she went to one window and then to the other, for she had 
to look at the sky and the earth outside—the great cur¬ 
tains made her feel as if she were shut up in a cage. .She 
could not push these to one side, so she crept in behind 
them to reach a window. But this was so high that Heidi 
was just able to reach up far enough to see through, and 
she did not find what she was looking for. She ran from 
one window to the other and then back to the first again, 


92 


HEIDI 


but always the same view was before her eyes—walls and 
windows, and still other walls and windows. 

Heidi became quite afraid. It was still early in the 
morning, for she was used to rising early up on the moun¬ 
tain meadow and going at once out of doors to see what the 
weather was, whether the sky was blue and the sun already 
shining, whether the fir trees were rustling and the eyes 
of the little flowers open. Heidi kept running from one 
window to the other, as a small bird which is put for the 
first time in a beautiful shining cage darts hither and 
thither, and tests all the bars, to see if it cannot somehow 
slip between them and regain its freedom. She tried to 
open a window, for it must be that one could then see 
something else than walls and windows. Down below 
there must surely be the ground, with green grass and the 
last melting snow appearing on the slopes, and Heidi 
fairly ached to see those things. 

But the windows remained firmly closed, no matter 
how much the child lifted and pulled, try as she would to 
get her small fingers under the sash in order to gain 
strength to raise them. Everything stuck together as hard 
as iron. After a long while, when Heidi saw that all 
her efforts were in vain, she gave up her plan and began 
to think how nice it would be to go outside and around the 
house to where the lawn was. For she remembered that 
last evening in front of the house they had walked on 
nothing but stones. At that moment there was a knock 
on her door, and right after it Tinette thrust her head in 
and said shortly — 

“Breakfast is ready.” 


MISS ROTTENMEIER HAS A.TIRING DAY 93 

Heidi did not know that these words were really an 
invitation. The scornful look on Tinette’s face seemed to 
warn her to keep away, rather than to invite her to do any¬ 
thing. Heidi read the maid’s look and acted as it seemed 
to wish her to. She drew the small footstool out from 
under the table, put it in a corner, sat down upon it, and 
then waited still as a mouse to see what would happen 
next. After a little while something came bustling along ; 
it was Miss Rottenmeier. And again she seemed very 
excited and called out to Heidi from the doorway— 

“What’s the matter with you, Adelheid? Can’t you 
get it into your head what breakfast is? Come along!” 

Heidi could understand such talk as that. She followed 
right after the housekeeper. 

Clara had been sitting at her place in the dining room 
for some time, and she looked up at Heidi with a pleasant 
greeting. She seemed to be happier than usual today, for 
she was expecting all sorts of strange things to happen 
that morning. The breakfast passed without any trouble, 
for Heidi ate her bread and butter just as she should, 
and when the meal was ended Clara was wheeled back 
into the library. Heidi was told by Miss Rottenmeier 
to follow Clara and stay with her until the Herr Kandidat 
arrived to begin the lessons. When the two children were 
alone, Heidi said at once— 

“How do you see out here and away down to the 
ground?” 

“You open a window and put your head out,” Clara 
said, amused. 

“You can’t open the windows,” Heidi answered, sadly. 


94 


HEIDI 


“Silly, of course they open. You can’t do it, I suppose, 
and I can’t help you, either. But when you see Sebastian, 
he’ll open one for you fast enough.” 

Heidi felt much better to know that the windows 
would open and let her peer out, for the room still seemed 
to her like a prison. And now Clara began to ask Heidi 
questions about her home. And Heidi, of course, was 
glad to tell of the mountain meadow and the goats, of the 
hut in the pasture, and of everything she was so fond of. 

In the meantime the university student arrived. Only, 
Miss Rottenmeier did not lead him into the library as she 
usually did, because she wanted to talk with him first. 
So she asked him into the dining room, where she sat 
down before him and told him in great excitement of the 
awful situation she was in and how it had all come about. 

She said she had written some time before this to Mr. 
Sesemann, who was making quite a stay in Paris, telling 
him how for a long while his daughter had wanted to have 
a playmate in the house with her—how she herself had 
felt such a companion would be a spur to Clara in her 
studies and keep her from being lonely the rest of the 
time. To tell the truth, the scheme was a very good one 
for Miss Rottenmeier, since she was very glad to have 
someone there to help her take care of the sick Clara, a 
task that was often too much for her alone. 

Mr. Sesemann had answered her letter, saying that 
he would be glad to do as his daughter wished if the 
playmate was treated in every way as well as Clara herself. 
He wrote that he did not wish any drudgery put upon 
a child in the house. “And I think that was a most 


MISS ROTTENMEIER HAS A TIRING DAY 95 

unnecessary thing for Mr. Sesemann to say,” Miss Rotten- 
meier added, “for who wants to make a drudge of a child?” 

With that, the lady went on to say how terribly she 
had been disappointed in the child. She told all the foolish 
things Heidi had done so far, to prove not only that the 
Herr Kandidat would have to begin his lessons by teach¬ 
ing her the ABC’s, but that from every possible point her 
training must start at the very beginning. 

Miss Rottenmeier said that she saw only one way out 
of this difficulty, and that was for the university student 
to explain it was impossible to teach two such different 
children together without doing real harm to the more 
advanced pupil. This, she thought, might be reason 
enough for Mr. Sesemann to put an end to the business. 
And he would then agree to have the child sent back to 
where she had come from. But Miss Rottenmeier of 
course did not feel she could do this without the consent 
of her employer, since he knew of the child’s arrival. 

Now the university student was a timid person and 
not quick to decide any matter. 

So he said comforting things to the housekeeper and 
thought perhaps they would find that if the young child 
was not so well advanced in some ways she might still 
know more in others. He felt they might even things up 
by being very careful about her teaching. Now, when 
Miss Rottenmeier saw that the Herr Kandidat was not 
going to stand by her, but was going to 'try to teach the 
ABC’s, she opened the library door for him, closed it 
quickly behind him, and remained on the other side. For 
she disliked the ABC’s very much. 


9 6 


HEIDI 


Then she walked with great strides up and down the 
room, for she had to decide how the servants were to 
address Adelheid. Mr. Sesemann had certainly written 
that Heidi was to be treated as his own daughter, and 
this command of his had especial reference to the servants, 
the housekeeper thought. But she did not have long to 
think things over in peace because all at once there came 
from the library a terrible crash of falling objects, and 
then a cry to Sebastian for help. 

She rushed into the other room. 

There on the floor everything lay in a heap, all the 
things they studied with—books, copy books, the inkwell— 
and on top of them the table cover, from under whose 
edge a small stream of ink was flowing the whole length 
of the room. Heidi had disappeared. 

“Now she’s done it!” cried Miss Rottenmeier, wring¬ 
ing her hands. “Carpet, books, waste basket swimming 
in ink! Such a thing never happened before. She’s the 
child of misfortune, that’s all there is about it!” 

The scared university student stood and stared at the 
work of ruin. Although he was not at all quick in decid¬ 
ing things, this was certainly very shocking. But the 
delighted Clara was looking at these strange events and 
their results with high glee. She explained how it had all 
happened. 

“Oh, Heidi did it, fast enough. But she didn’t mean 
to. She just was in an awful hurry to get away and she 
pulled the table cover off, so everything fell on the floor. 
A string of carriages was going past, that’s why she flew 
out. I guess she had never seen a cab before.” 


MISS ROTTENMEIER HAS A TIRING DAY 97 

“Isn’t that just what I was telling you, Herr Kandi- 
dat? The creature hasn’t the first idea about things. She 
hasn’t the least idea of what a lesson is, and that she 
ought to sit still and listen. But where is the imp of 
mischief? If she has run away, what on earth will Mr. 
Sesemann—” 

Miss Rottenmeier ran from the room and down the 
stairs. Here, down below the opened entrance door, 
Heidi was standing and peering in confusion up and down 
the street. 

“What’s the matter with you? What are you think¬ 
ing of? How can you run off in such a manner?” the 
housekeeper shouted at the child. 

“I heard the fir trees rustling, but I can’t find where they 
are and I don’t hear them any more,” Heidi answered. 
She was looking with disappointment in the direction 
where the sound of the rolling carriages had died away. 
This noise had sounded to Heidi’s ears like the roaring 
of the south wind among the firs, and she had followed 
its calling in the greatest glee. 

“Fir trees! Do you think we’re in the woods ? What 
silly notions! Come up and see what you’ve done!” 

Miss Rottenmeier climbed the staircase again. Heidi 
followed meekly after and was very much surprised to 
see the great havoc she had created in the library. For, 
so wild had been her haste to find the fir trees, she had 
not noticed what she was dragging after her. 

“You can do a thing like that once, but no more,” 
Miss Rottenmeier said, pointing to the floor. “During 
your lessons see that you sit still and pay attention. If 


HEIDI 


you can’t do that by yourself, I shall have to tie you in 
your chair. Do you hear me?” 

“Yes,” Heidi answered, “and I’ll sit very quiet now.” 
For at last she understood it was the rule not to move 
about when a lesson was being given. 

Now Sebastian and Tinette had to come in to put 
things in order. The university student departed, because 
any further teaching was impossible. There had been no 
excuse for Clara to sit and yawn that morning. 

In the afternoon Clara always had to rest for awhile, 
and Heidi could then busy herself in any way she wanted 
to. Miss Rottenmeier had explained all that in the 
morning. 

So, when Clara had lain down in her chair to rest after 
dinner, the housekeeper went to her room, and Heidi saw 
the time had come for her to do whatever she pleased. This 
suited her finely, because there was something in her mind 
that she wished to try, but she could not do it without 
help. So she placed herself in the middle of the hall by 
the dining room in order that the person she wanted to see 
might not escape her. And, sure enough, after a short 
wait, Sebastian came upstairs with the great tea tray 
on his arm, for he was carrying the silver up from the 
kitchen to put it away in the china closet of the dining 
room. When he reached the last step of the staircase, 
Heidi went up to him and said very distinctly— 

“You, or He!” 

Sebastian opened his eyes just as wide as they would 
go and said very crossly, “What’s that you’re saying, 
Mamsell?” 


MISS ROTTENMEIER HAS A TIRING DAY 


99 


‘Td like to ask you something, only really it’s nothing 
naughty, like this morning,” Heidi added gently, because 
she noticed Sebastian still seemed a little vexed, as if he 
were thinking of the ink she had spilled on the floor. 

“All right. But first I should like to know about that 
‘You or He/ ” Sebastian answered, still crossly. 

“Oh, that’s what I always have to call you,” Heidi 
declared. “Miss Rottenmeier told me to.” 

At that Sebastian laughed so loud that Heidi looked 
at him in surprise, for she had not seen anything funny. 

“And my name is not Mamsell either,” the child said, 
in her turn a little angry. “My name is Heidi.” 

“So it is. But the same lady has ordered me to say, 
‘Mamsell/ ” Sebastian declared. 

“Oh, she did? Then that must be my name,” Heidi 
said, obediently. For she had come to see that everything 
must go just as Miss Rottenmeier said. 

“So, now I have three names,” she said with a sigh. 

“But what was it that the little Mamsell wanted to 
ask?” Sebastian said, going into the dining room and 
putting the silver away in the china closet. 

“Show me how to open a window, Sebastian.” 

“Here is the way to do it,” he said, and he opened the 
great double window for her. 

Heidi went up to it, but she was too small to see out. 
She reached only up to the sill. 

“There you are! Now the little Mamsell can peer 
out and see what’s down below,” said Sebastian. And 
he brought a high wooden footstool and put it in place. 
Heidi clambered up on this happily and she could at last 


100 


HEIDI 


have the look she had so longed for. But, with a gesture 
of great disappointment, she drew in her head again at 
once. 

“You can’t see anything but the stone street,” Heidi 
said pitifully. “But if you go ’way around the house, 
Sebastian, what is there to see on the other side?” 

“Just the same thing,” he answered. 

“But where do you have to go to see far, far across 
the whole valley?” 

“For that, you have to climb up on some high tower 
like a church steeple. See the one over there with the gilt 
dome on it? From up there you can see ever so far.” 

Now Heidi jumped down quickly from her stool, ran 
out of doors, and flew down the steps out into the street. 
But the affair did not turn out as she had thought it would. 
As she had seen the tower from the window, it had seemed 
as if she would only have to cross the street to find it right 
in front of her. But poor Heidi walked down the whole 
length of the street without coming to the tower. And she 
could not find the tower anywhere else. 

Down one street after another she walked, on and 
on, but still there was no steeple. A great many people 
passed her, but they all seemed to be in so much of a hurry 
that Heidi was sure they would have no time to direct 
her. Just then she saw a lad standing on the next street 
corner, who carried on his back a little hand organ and 
on his arm the strangest sort of an animal. Heidi ran 
to him. 

“Where’s the tower with the golden ball on top of it?” 
she asked. 


MISS ROTTENMEIER HAS A TIRING DAY 101 


“Don’t know,” said the boy. 

“But who’ll tell me where it is?” 

“Don’t know.” 

“Do you know any other church with a high tower?” 

“Surely.” 

“Come on then and show it to me.” 

“First you show me what you’ll give me.” 

The lad thrust out his hand. Heidi felt around in her 
pocket. Then she drew out a small picture in which a 
pretty wreath of red roses was painted. First she 
looked at it a little while, for she hated to lose it. Clara 
had given it to her just that morning. But, oh, to look 
down into the valley across the green slopes! 

“There you are,” Heidi said, holding out the picture. 
“Would you like that?” 

The boy drew back his hand and shook his head. 

“What do you want then?” Heidi asked, and put the 
little picture gladly back in her pocket. 

“Money.” 

“I haven’t any, but Clara has some that she’ll give 
me. How much do you want?” 

“Five pennies.” 

“Come on, then!” 

So the two wandered down a long street, and on the 
way Heidi asked her companion what he was carrying 
on his back. He told her that under the cloth there was 
a fine organ that made wonderful music when he turned 
a crank. Suddenly they were standing before an old 
church with a high tower. 

The lad halted and said, “There you are.” 


102 


HEIDI 


“But how can I get in?” Heidi asked when she saw 
the tightly closed doors. 

“Don’t know,” was the answer. 

“Do you think you could ring here, the way you do 
for Sebastian?” 

“Don’t know.” 

Heidi found a small bell in the wall and pulled at 
it with all her might. 

“You must wait down here for me while I’m up in 
the tower. I don’t know the way back any more, and 
you’ll have to show it to me.” 

“What will you give me if I do?” 

“How much do I have to?” 

“Five pennies more.” 

Just then the old lock was turned from the inside, 
and the door creaked slowly open. An old man stepped 
out and looked at the children first in surprise, and then 
in some anger. He shouted at them— 

“How dare you ring for me to come down? Can’t 
you read what stands above the bell, Tor those who 
wish to climb the tower’?” 

The lad pointed silently at Heidi. 

“Climb the tower is just what I want to do,” Heidi 
said. 

“What business have you up there?” asked the sex¬ 
ton. “Did somebody send you?” 

“No,” the child said, “I only’d like to go up so I 
could see down.” 

“You hurry and go home! And don’t try that trick 
on me again, or you won’t get off so easily next time!” 


MISS ROTTENMEIER HAS A TIRING DAY 103 

With these words, the sexton turned around and was 
going to shut the door. But Heidi held fast to his coat 
tail and said in a pleading tone— 

“Oh, please! Just this once!” 

He looked behind him and saw Heidi’s eyes fixed on 
his so pitifully that suddenly all his anger was gone. 
He took her hand in his and said gently— 

“Why, if you want to go up so badly as all that, 
come on!” 

The boy sat down on the stone before the door to 
show that he did not wish to go along with them. 

Heidi took the sexton’s hand and climbed long rows 
of steps. They kept getting narrower and narrower, 
until finally there was a flight but little wider than a 
ladder. At last the two people were at the top. The 
sexton lifted Heidi up and held her in the open window. 

“Now you can see down below,” he said. 

Heidi looked down upon a sea of roofs, towers, and 
chimneys. She drew her head quickly back again and 
said, much disappointed— 

“It’s not anything like what I thought.” 

“Just what I expected!” said the sexton. “What can a 
little thing like that know about views? Well, come down 
now, and see you never ring a tower bell again.” 

He set Heidi down on the floor and led the way to 
the narrow steps. Where these grew broader, there 
was a door on the left that opened into the sexton’s 
room, and close by it the flooring stretched out under 
the steep roof. In behind there stood a great basket, 
before which a fat gray cat was sitting and growling. 


104 


HEIDI 


For her family lived in the hamper, and she wished the 
passers-by to know they must not mix themselves up 
with her household affairs. 

Heidi stood stock still and looked surprisedly into 
the corner, for in all her born days she had never seen 
so huge a cat. Whole troops of mice lived in the old 
tower, and the old cat had no trouble in fetching home a 
half dozen selected ones every day. The sexton saw 
Heidi's surprise and he said— 

“Come on, she won’t hurt you while I’m here. Look 
at her kittens if you want to.” 

Heidi walked over to the basket and fairly squealed 
with happy excitement. 

“Oh, the cute little things! The cunning kittens!” she 
cried again and again. She danced here and there about 
the basket so as to be sure not to miss a single one of all 
the funny movements and leaps the seven or eight young 
kittens were making. They crawled, jumped, and fell over 
one another without stopping. 

“Would you like one for your very own?” asked the 
sexton, who smiled to see Heidi hopping around so 
happily. 

“All mine, for keeps?” Heidi said. She was so excited 
she could scarcely believe her good fortune. 

“Yes, of course. You can have more, too. You can 
have them all if you find a place for them,” the man 
answered. He was glad of a chance to get rid of the 
kittens without doing them harm. 

Heidi was very happy. Why, there was such lots of 
room for the little things in the big house. And wouldn’t 


MISS ROTTENMEIER HAS A TIRING DAY 105 


Clara be amazed and delighted when the cunning crea¬ 
tures arrived! 

“But how am I going to carry them?” Heidi asked. 
She started to catch some of them in her hands right away, 
but the fat cat jumped on her arm and snarled a*t her so 
fiercely that she started back in great fear. 

“Til take them home for you if you’ll tell me where to 
go,” the sexton said. He stroked the old cat to quiet her 
again, for she was his friend and had lived many years 
with him up in the tower. 

“To Mr. Sesemann in the great house. The front door 
has a gold dog’s head with a thick ring in its mouth,” 
Heidi explained. 

She did not have to tell the sexton that. For the sex¬ 
ton had been sitting in his tower for many years and he 
knew every house in the whole district. Besides, Sebas¬ 
tian was an old friend of his. 

“Oh, I know,” he said, “but whom shall I give the 
little fellows to? Shall I ask for you? You don’t belong 
to Mr. Sesemann, do you?” 

“No. But Clara will be so happy when the kittens 
come.” 

The sexton was going to start downstairs again, but 
Heidi just could not tear herself away from the interesting 
scene before her. 

“If I could only take one or two with me! One for me 
and one for Clara. Don’t you think I could?” 

“Just wait a second, then,” said the sexton. He car¬ 
ried the old cat cautiously into his room and placed her in 
the cupboard, closed the door on her, and returned. 


8 


io6 


HEIDI 


'There! Now you can take two,” he said. 

Heidi’s eyes shone with happiness. She chose a white 
kitten and one with white and yellow stripes, putting them 
in the pockets of her skirt. And then they started on 
their way down. 

The lad was still sitting on the steps outside. When 
the sexton had shut the door behind Heidi, she said— 

"Which is the way to Mr. Sesemann’s?” 

"Don’t know,” was the answer. 

Then Heidi began to describe for him as well as she 
could the front door, the windows, and the steps, but the 
lad shook his head at all her talking. He knew nothing 
about it. 

"You see,” Heidi went on describing, "from its win¬ 
dows you can see a great big gray house, and here’s the 
way its roof goes—” 

With one finger she drew sharp points in the air. 

At that the lad jumped to his feet. He only needed signs 
like that to find his way. He kept running straight ahead, 
and Heidi right after him, and in a short while, sure 
enough, they stood before the front door that had a dog’s 
head in brass as its knocker. 

Heidi rang the bell. Sebastian soon appeared, but the 
moment he saw Heidi he called out impatiently— 

"Hurry up, hurry up!” 

Heidi ran in as fast as she could, and Sebastian closed 
the door. He had not noticed the lad who was standing 
outside. 

"Quick, little Mamsell!” Sebastian kept begging her. 
"Right in the dining room! They are already at dinner. 


MISS ROTTENMEIER HAS A TIRING DAY 107 

Miss Rottenmeier looks like a loaded cannon. Whatever 
made little Mamsell run away like that?” 

Heidi had walked into the dining room. Miss Rotten¬ 
meier did not look up from the plate. Clara said nothing, 
either, and there was an unpleasant silence. Sebastian 
placed Heidi in her chair. The moment that she was in 
her seat, the housekeeper began to speak. Her face was 
very stern and her voice most solemn. 

“Adelheid,” she said, “I shall talk with you afterward, 
but at present I shall only say that you have been very 
naughty and really ought to be punished for leaving the 
house without telling anyone or asking permission, and 
wandering around until late in the evening. I never heard 
of such a thing.” 

“Meow!” said a voice, as if in answer. 

At that the lady grew angry indeed. 

“What, Adelheid,” she cried, and her voice kept rising 
higher, “you dare make such a naughty joke, after all 
your bad behavior? You had better look out, I warn 
you!” 

“I didn't say—” Heidi began. 

“M-e-o-w! M-e-o-w!” 

Sebastian almost threw his tray on the table and fled 
away. 

“That will do!” Miss Rottenmeier tried to say, but she 
had lost her voice in her excitement. 

“Get up and leave this room!” she cried after a 
moment. 

Very much scared, Heidi got up from her chair and 
once more tried to explain. 


io8 


HEIDI 


“I didn’t say—” 

“M-e-o-w! M-e-o-w! M-e-o-w!” 

“But, Heidi,” Clara went on to say, “really, when you 
see how cross you’re making Miss Rottenmeier, why do 
you keep meowing?” 

“But, I’m not,” Heidi at last was able to say loudly 
enough to be heard. “It’s the kittens.” 

“What’s that? What are you saying? Cats? Kit¬ 
tens?” shrieked Miss Rottenmeier. “Sebastian! Tinette! 
Find the terrible beasts and get rid of them!” 

And the lady rushed headlong into the library and 
bolted the door behind her to be safer from cats, which 
were to her the most awful things in all creation. Sebas¬ 
tian was standing outside the door and had to have his 
laugh out before he could come back in. While he was 
waiting on Heidi at table, he had seen the little head of 
a kitten peering out of her pocket and had been expecting 
the scene that was to come. When it arrived, he could 
scarcely hold in long enough to set the tray down on the 
table. 

At last, however, he was able to go back into the 
room in good order, but not until the lady’s terrified cries 
for help had long ceased. Everything in the room was 
by that time peaceful and happy. Clara was holding the 
kittens in her lap, Heidi was kneeling down beside her, 
and both were joyfully playing with the tiny, graceful 
creatures. 

“You must help us,” Clara said to Sebastian as he 
entered. “You’ll have to find a nest for the kittens where 
Miss Rottenmeier won’t see i't. For she’s afraid of them 


MISS ROTTENMEIER HAS A TIRING DAY 109 


and wants to get rid of them. But we want to keep the 
cunning little things and fetch 'them out whenever we're 
alone. Where can you hide them ?" 

“I'll tend to that all right, Miss Clara," Sebastian 
said good-naturedly. ‘Til make a fine bed for them in 
a basket and put them in a place that the timid lady will 
never discover. Trust that to me." 

Sebastian kept giggling a little every now and then 
as he went on with his work, for he thought, ‘There's 
going to be trouble, sure as you're born!" Which did not 
displease Sebastian, for he liked to see Miss Rottenmeier 
get excited. 

After some while, when it was almost bedtime, Miss 
Rottenmeier opened the door the least bit and called 
through the crack— 

“Have the terrible beasts been taken away?" 

“Oh, yes, long ago," Sebastian said. He had been find¬ 
ing work to do in the dining room, waiting for this 
question. Quickly and softly he took the kittens from 
Clara’s lap and disappeared with them. 

The special scolding Miss Rottenmeier intended for 
Heidi was put off until next day. That evening the lady 
felt too worn out by the changing moods of anger, rage, 
and fright which Heidi, without meaning to, had caused 
her. She retired in silence, and Clara and Heidi followed 
her contentedly, because they knew their kittens were in a 
good bed. 


CHAPTER VIII 

EXCITEMENT IN THE SESEMANN HOUSE 

Next morning Sebastian had hardly opened the front 
door for the Herr Kandidat and let him into the library 
when somebody else rang the doorbell, but with such a 
noise that the servant almost tumbled downstairs in his 
hurry. 

“No one rings like that but Mr. Sesemann himself,” 
Sebastian thought. “He must have returned ahead of 
time.” 

He tore, the door open. A ragged boy with a hand 
organ on his back stood before him. 

“What do you mean?” Sebastian yelled at him. “I’ll 
teach you not to tear down doorbells. What do you want 
here?” 

“I want to see Clara,” was the answer. 

“You dirty little tramp, you! Don’t you know enough 
to say ‘Miss Clara,’ as your betters do? What’s your 
business with Miss Clara, anyway?” demanded Sebastian 
roughly. 

“She owes me ten pennies,” the lad explained. 

“You must be crazy. What makes you think a Miss 
Clara lives here?” 

“I showed her the way yesterday for five pennies. And 
then I showed her the way back—that makes ten.” 

“Just to show what an awful lie you’re telling, Miss 
Clara never goes out of the house. She can’t walk a step. 


IIO 


EXCITEMENT IN THE SESEMANN HOUSE iii 


Come, run off to where you belong, or I’ll give you a 
push!” 

But the lad was not in the least frightened. He did not 
move from the spot, and he said calmly— 

"Just the same I saw her on the street. Til tell what 
she looks like. She has short curly hair that’s black, and 
her eyes are black, and her dress is brown, and she can’t 
talk the way we do.” 

“O-ho!” thought Sebastian, and chuckled to himself. 
“That’s little Mamsell who’s been up to more mischief.” 

Then he pulled the lad inside and said— 

“Right you are. Follow me, but wait outside the door 
until I come back again. If I let you go in, you must 
play something. Miss Clara likes to hear it.” 

When he was upstairs, he knocked at the library door 
and was told to come in. 

“There’s a lad here who has a message to give Miss 
Clara herself,” Sebastian said, gravely. 

Clara was much pleased to have such an unusual thing 
happen. 

“Tell him to come right in,” she said. “You don’t 
mind, Herr Kandidat, if he wants to give me the message 
himself?” 

The lad had already entered and, just as he had been 
told to, he began at once to play his organ. In order not 
•to have to listen to the ABC’s, Miss Rottenmeier had 
been busying herself at different tasks in the dining room. 
Suddenly she pricked up her ears. 

Did those sounds come in from the street? But they 
seemed to be so close to her! How could the tunes of a 


112 


HEIDI 


hand organ possibly be coming from the library? And 
still—they really seemed— 

She flew across the dining room and tore open the 
door. 

There—would you believe it?—there in the middle 
of the library was a ragged organ grinder, and he was 
playing his instrument with all his might! The university 
student was evidently trying to say something, but you 
couldn’t hear a sound he made. Clara and Heidi were 
listening with shining faces to the organ music. 

“Stop it! Stop it right away!” Miss Rottenmeier 
called into the room. Her voice was drowned by the 
music. 

So she ran straight for the lad— 

But suddenly she felt something between her feet. 
She looked down at the floor. A frightful black beast was 
crawling under her skirts—a turtle. The housekeeper 
jumped high in the air, as she had not done for years, and 
screamed at the top of her lungs— 

“Sebastian! Se-bas-tian!” 

All at once the organ grinder stopped playing, for this 
time her voice drowned the music. Sebastian was stand¬ 
ing outside by the half-opened door, and he was bent 
double with laughter, for he had seen Miss Rottenmeier’s 
mighty leap. At last he came in. The housekeeper had 
sunk down limply on a chair. 

“Away with them all, man and beast! Get rid of them 
on the spot, Sebastian,” she called to him. 

Sebastian obeyed willingly. He drew the lad away 
with him and the turtle, too, that was now tightly held in 


EXCITEMENT IN THE SESEMANN HOUSE 113 

the boy’s arms. When he had the lad outside, he pressed 
some money into his hand and said— 

“There’s the ten for Miss Clara and ten more for play¬ 
ing. You play fine.” 

Then he closed the front door behind the strange 
guest. 

Everything was quiet again in the library, once more 
the lessons had been begun, and this time Miss Rottenmeier 
remained in the room to make sure that nothing further 
of a terrible sort should happen. She planned to look into 
the matter of the organ grinder after the study hours 
were over, and to punish the guilty person in a way that 
he would not soon forget. 

Before long there was another knock on the door, and 
Sebastian again appeared with the news that a large bas¬ 
ket had been left at the door, to be given without delay to 
Miss Clara herself. 

“To me?” said Clara in surprise and very eager to 
know what it might be. “Please let me see at once what 
it looks like.” 

Sebastian brought in a covered basket and went away 
again hurriedly. 

“I think you’d better finish your lessons first and then 
unpack the basket,” said Miss Rottenmeier. 

Clara cast longing eyes at the basket. For the life of 
her she could not guess what it contained. 

At last she stopped right in the middle of a word she 
was declining. “O Herr Kandidat,” she sighed, “if I 
might take just one quick look, so I could know what was 
in it, then I’d go right on with my work.” 


HEIDI 


114 

“In one way, you might as well take a look,” the uni¬ 
versity student said, “in another way, you ought to wait. 
The reason for taking just one peep is that your whole 
mind is set on the thing anyway—” 

This speech was never finished. 

The cover of the basket was not fastened tightly, and 
at this moment one, two, three little kittens jumped out 
into the room, and then two more, and then even more. 
And they began to scamper around so like lightning that it 
seemed as if the whole room were full of the small animals. 

They leaped over the Herr Kandidat’s boots, nibbled 
at his trousers, climbed up Miss Rottenmeier’s dress, 
scratched at her feet, jumped up on Clara’s chair. They 
scraped and sprawled and meowed. The confusion was 
awful. 

Clara was in raptures and kept crying, “Oh, what 
cunning pussies! What jolly jumps they make! See 
here, Heidi, look there! Oh, do see that one!” 

As to Heidi, she chased them joyously into all the 
corners. The university student stood nervously by the 
table, lifting first one foot and then the other to avoid the 
sprawling things. For a few moments Miss Rottenmeier 
sat speechless with horror, and then she began to howl at 
the top of her voice— 

“Tinette! Ti-net-te! Sebastian! Se-bas-tian!” 

She could not even pluck up courage to rise from her 
chair, because she feared all the horrid little beasts might 
jump on her at once. 

Her repeated calls for help finally brought Sebastian 
and Tinette. The butler packed the kittens one after the 


EXCITEMENT IN THE SESEMANN HOUSE 115 


other back into the basket and carried them off to the bed 
in the basement which he had made for the two kittens 
the day before. 

This day again there had been no cause for yawning 
during the study hours. Later in the evening, when Miss 
Rottenmeier found herself somewhat rested from her 
excitement of the morning, she called Sebastian and 
Tinette upstairs to the library in order to talk over 
thoroughly the disgraceful things that had happened. 
And so it was discovered that the trip Heidi had made on 
the day before was the cause of all the trouble. The 
housekeeper sat there white with anger and at first was 
unable to think of any words that would express her feel¬ 
ings. She waved Sebastian and Tinette out of the room, 
and then she turned to Heidi, who was standing by Clara's 
chair and could not see what she had done that was wrong. 

“Adelheid,” she began, in a stern voice, “I know of 
only one punishment which would be severe enough for 
you, because you are a wild girl. But let us see if down 
in the dark cellar with lizards and rats you will not become 
so tame that you will never try such tricks again.” 

Heidi listened quietly and in surprise to this judgment, 
for she had never been in a fearful cellar. The room next 
to the hut on the mountain meadow which Grandfather 
had called the cellar was rather a nice and pleasant place. 
The ripe cheeses and the fresh milk were kept in it, and 
she had never seen any rats or lizards there. 

But Clara began to cry and wail. 

“No, no, Miss Rottenmeier, we must wait until Papa 
comes back. He wrote he was coming soon. And then 


116 


HEIDI 


I’ll tell him everything and he’ll decide what must be done 
to Heidi.” 

Miss Rottenmeier really could not object to Mr. Sese- 
mann as chief judge in Heidi’s case, and all the more 
because he was going to be home very soon. She got up 
and said somewhat sternly— 

“Very well, Clara, I am willing. But I, too, shall 
have a word to say to your father.” 

And with that she left the room. 

There followed now two or three days of peace and 
quiet, but the housekeeper could not seem to get over 
her excitement. Every hour she kept thinking of how 
deceived she had been in Heidi. She felt as if things had 
been going wrong ever since the child first appeared in 
the Sesemann house, and as if they would never get any 
better. 

Clara was very happy. She never felt dull any longer, 
for Heidi made the study hours most amusing affairs. 
She really could not learn her letters and always got them 
mixed. And just as the Herr Kandidat would be in the 
act of explaining the form of some letter and, to make 
this clearer, would be comparing it to a small horn or to 
the beak of a bird, Heidi would suddenly cry out joy¬ 
fully— 

“It’s a goat!” or, “It’s a bird of prey!” 

The descriptions of the university student awakened 
all sorts of pictures in Heidi’s small brain, but no idea of 
the letters. 

In the later hours of the afternoon Heidi would sit 
again beside Clara and tell her so much about the 


EXCITEMENT IN THE SESEMANN HOUSE 117 

mountain meadow and the life on it that she would become 
terribly homesick and would end by declaring— 

“FU really have to go right back home. I certainly 
must go back tomorrow.” 

But when Heidi had such attacks, Clara would quiet 
her by saying that she surely must wait for Papa to come 
home. Then they could see what was to be done about 
the matter. 

One happy thought that Heidi carried secretly in her 
mind made her quite willing to give up her own ways and 
to be contented. This was the thought that every added 
day she stayed in Frankfort there would be two more 
rolls for Grandmother. For each noon and evening there 
was a fine white roll beside her place. And these rolls she 
always put right in her pocket, because she could not eat 
them when she remembered Grandmother had none at all 
and, with her poor old teeth, was hardly able any longer 
to eat the tough black bread. 

Every day after dinner Heidi would sit all by herself 
for two hours up in her room, since in the city they did 
not permit her to run out of doors as she had used to on 
the mountain meadow. She understood this rule now and 
never broke it. Nor did she dare to have a talk with 
Sebastian across the hall in the dining room, for Miss 
Rottenmeier had forbidden that also. And she did not 
even dream of having a chat with Tinette. She always 
avoided the maid if she could, because Tinette spoke to 
her in a mocking tone and was forever making fun of her. 
And Heidi saw clearly what she was up to and knew that 
Tinette was laughing at her. 


n8 


HEIDI 


So Heidi would sit every day in her room, spending 
her time thinking of how green the mountain meadow 
must be growing by now, and of how all the yellow flowers 
must be gleaming in the sunlight. She would picture the 
snow and the mountains and the whole wide valley. And 
then Heidi would often feel as if she could not bear to be 
away from it a moment longer. Had her aunt not told 
her that she could go home whenever she wanted to? 

Thus it came about that one fine day Heidi gave in 
to her homesickness. She hurriedly packed up her rolls 
in the big red neckerchief, put on her straw hat, and set 
forth. 

But she had got no farther than the front door when her 
plans for escape were wrecked. She came upon Miss 
Rottenmeier, who was just back from a walk. This lady 
stopped and gazed at Heidi from top to toe. Her look 
seemed to dwell on the full red scarf at Heidi's neck. And 
then she gasped— 

“What sort of dressing is that? And what does this 
mean, anyway? Haven't I strictly forbidden you ever to 
go tramping about again? Yet here you are trying to 
steal away another time, and looking like a perfect little 
ragamuffin!" 

“I wasn't going to tramp about, I was only going 
home," Heidi answered, frightened. 

“Eh? What? Going home? Going home, if you 
please!" Miss Rottenmeier clasped her hands in her 
excitement. “Running away? Oh, if Mr. Sesemann 
should hear of it! Running right away from his house! 
You'd better see he doesn't learn about it! And what is 


EXCITEMENT IN THE SESEMANN HOUSE 119 

there, pray, that you don’t like in his home? Aren’t you 
treated better than you have a right to expect? Is there 
anything you lack? Did you ever in your life have as 
nice a home, or such good things to eat, or such good 
treatment as here? Tell me that!” 

“No,” Heidi answered. 

“And don’t I know it!” the housekeeper went on, 
excitedly. “There is nothing you do not have. And yet I 
cannot imagine such an ungrateful creature. You’re so 
well off, you don’t know your own good luck.” 

But poor Heidi could no longer hold back her great 
loneliness. She burst out— 

“I just want to go h-o-m-e. And if I keep staying 
away any more, Schneehoppli will go on grieving for me. 
And Grandmother is expecting me. And Distelfink will get 
a whipping if Peter doesn’t get any cheese. And here you 
never see the sun say good night to the mountains. And 
if the bird of prey should fly over Frankfort, he would 
scream ever so much louder, because so many folks sit 
together and get cross with each other and never climb up 
on the rocks where it’s good for them to be.” 

“Mercy me! The child has gone crazy,” Miss Rotten- 
meier cried out. She flew in terror up the steps and ran 
straight into Sebastian, who was just starting down. 

“Carry the unfortunate thing right up,” she called to 
him, while she rubbed her head with her hand. For she 
had received a good hard bump. 

“Yes, yes, all right! Thank you, ma’am!” Sebastian 
answered, rubbing his head, likewise. For his bump had 
been even worse. 


120 


HEIDI 


With flaming eyes, Heidi never budged from where 
she stood. Her whole body was shaking with nervous 
excitement. 

“Well, what have you been doing this time?” Sebastian 
asked, with a cheerful grin. But when he looked more 
closely at Heidi, who was standing very still, he patted 
her gently on the shoulder and said— 

“Oh, bah! The little Mamsell mustn’t take things so 
much to heart. Just be jolly, that’s the way to do! Didn’t 
she just this minute almost ram a hole in my head, but 
why be downhearted about it? Well! Still on the same 
spot, I see. We’ve got to go back in, she said so.” 

At that, Heidi walked up the steps, but slowly and 
wearily, and not at all as she generally did. It made 
Sebastian unhappy to watch her. He followed along behind 
and spoke encouraging words— 

“You mustn’t mind so much. Just don’t be so unhappy 
about it! Be brave, whatever happens. Our little Mam¬ 
sell is a regular soldier, has never shed a tear since she’s 
been with us, while everybody knows that other girls of 
her age weep twelve times a day! The kittens are having 
a fine time upstairs, I’ll bet. They’re jumping all over 
the place and acting crazy. After a bit we’ll just go up 
and take a look at them when the lady in there isn’t around 
to see.” 

Heidi nodded her head a little, but so sadly that it went 
straight to Sebastian’s heart. He looked at her with much 
sympathy as she slunk off to her room. 

At supper that evening Miss Rottenmeier did not 
say a word. But she kept casting strangely keen glances 



Heidi in despair flung herself down on Clara's couch 

















































EXCITEMENT IN THE SESEMANN HOUSE 121 


at Heidi as if she thought she might at any moment do 
something quite unexpected. For her part, however, 
Heidi sat at her place still as a mouse and never made a 
move. She ate and drank nothing, but she slipped her 
roll quickly into her pocket. 

Next morning, when the Herr Kandidat was coming 
up the stairs, Miss Rottenmeier beckoned to him secretly 
to go into the dining room. And there she told him how 
greatly she feared that the change of scene and the new 
manner of living had driven the child out of her head. She 
told him of Heidi’s trying to run away, and she repeated 
all of the strange words of Heidi’s that she could 
remember. 

But the university student soothed and comforted 
Miss Rottenmeier. He said that he was well aware, on 
the one hand, that Adelheid was a little odd, and yet 
on the other hand she was certainly in her right mind. 
He felt sure that little by little, with the right kind of 
treatment, he could restore her to a proper frame of mind, 
and this was what he had had in view all along. He 
thought her case was worse just now because he simply had 
been unable to teach her the ABC’s, since she could not 
learn her letters. 

After this talk Miss Rottenmeier felt calmer and 
excused the Herr Kandidat to go to his lessons. Later in 
the afternoon she suddenly remembered the queer clothes 
Heidi had had on when she was trying to run away, and 
she made up her mind to put the child’s clothes in suitable 
shape by giving her some of Clara’s things to wear, before 
Mr. Sesemann should return. 


9 


122 


HEIDI 


She talked this over with Clara, and when she found 
the invalid agreed with her and wanted to give Heidi a 
lot of clothes and linen and hats, the housekeeper went up 
to the child’s room, in order to look through her closet 
and see which of her dresses should be kept and which 
should be got rid of. But she was back again in a few 
minutes, looking very much disgusted. 

“Can you guess what I have found, Adelheid?” she 
cried aloud. “Such a thing as I never expected to see! 
In your closet, in your clothes closet, in the bottom of this 
closet, Adelheid, tell me what I discovered. A heap of 
little rolls! Yes, Clara, bread in her closet. A big heap of 
them stowed away.” 

With that, Miss Rottenmeier called to the maid, who 
was in the dining room— 

“Tinette, take away the stale bread in Adelheid’s closet, 
will you? And also the crushed straw hat that’s on the 
table.” 

“No, no!” Heidi screamed. “I must keep the hat, and 
the rolls are for Grandmother.” 

Heidi tried to rush after Tinette, but the housekeeper 
held her in a firm grip. 

“You stay here! The rubbish will be put where it 
belongs,” she said, as she hung on to Heidi. 

Then the child threw herself down on Clara’s couch 
and began to weep. Her wailing grew louder and more 
bitter, and she kept saying over and over in her grief— 

“Now Grandmother won’t have any more rolls. They 
were for Grandmother, and now they’re all gone and she 
won’t have any.” And Heidi sobbed as if her heart would 


EXCITEMENT IN THE SESEMANN HOUSE 123 


break. Miss Rottenmeier ran out of the room. Clara 
was scared. 

“Don’t cry so, please, Heidi,” she begged, “but listen 
to me. Look here, I promise to give you just as many rolls 
for Grandmother when you go home, or even more of 
them. And they’ll be fresh and soft ones too, while yours 
would have got all hard. They were stale already. Just 
don’t cry so, Heidi!” 

It was some time before Heidi could hold back her 
sobs. But all the while she understood that Clara was 
comforting her, and it helped her greatly, or she never 
would have been able to stop crying. And Heidi had to 
be told several times about the new rolls and asked Clara 
again and again, while her speech was still interrupted by 
sobbing— 

“Sure you’ll give me just as many as I had for Grand¬ 
mother ?” 

Each time Clara answered, “Honest true, I will, and 
more, too, if only you won’t be sad any longer.” 

Heidi’s eyes were still red from weeping when she 
came down to supper. And when she saw the roll by her 
place, she had to start sobbing anew. But this time she 
held on to herself, for she knew that one must be quiet 
when at table. 

Now this evening, whenever Sebastian got close to 
Heidi, he would act in the strangest way. He would point 
first at his own head and then at Heidi’s. Then again he 
would nod and wink, as if he wanted to say— 

“Don’t you care. I saw what was up and looked out 
for everything.” 


124 


HEIDI 


Later, when Heidi went to her room and was going 
to creep into bed, why, there lay her crushed straw hat 
tucked under the spread! She pulled out the old hat 
delightedly, crumpled it even more in a fit of joy, wrapped 
it up in a handkerchief, and thrust it out of sight far 
back in her closet. 

It was Sebastian who had hidden the little hat under 
the coverlet. He had been in the dining room with Tinette 
when she was called by Miss Rottenmeier, and he had 
heard Heidi’s cries of grief. So he had followed Tinette, 
and when she came from the child’s room with her load 
of bread and the hat on top of it, he had snatched the 
hat and said to her— 

“I’ll attend to that for you.” 

So, after all, he had saved it for Heidi, to her great 
delight. And that is what he was trying to tell her during 
supper to cheer her up. 


CHAPTER IX 

THE MASTER HEARS STRANGE THINGS 

Some days after these happenings there was great 
excitement in the Sesemann household. People were run¬ 
ning upstairs and down, for the master of the house had 
just returned from his journey. Sebastian and Tinette 
were carrying in one bundle after another from the well- 
filled carriage, for Mr. Sesemann always brought a host 
of pretty things home with him. 

First of all he went to his daughter’s room to greet 
her. Heidi was sitting with Clara, for this was the late 
afternoon hour when they were always together. Clara 
welcomed her father with great happiness, for she loved 
him dearly, and the good papa greeted his little daughter 
no less fondly. Then he offered his hand to Heidi, who 
had quietly retired to a corner, and said— 

“And here is our little Swiss girl. Come, give me your 
hand, that’s the way! Now tell me one thing, are you 
and Clara good friends? You don’t quarrel and get cross, 
and then cry and make up, and then begin all over again, 
do you?” 

“No, Clara is always good to me,” Heidi answered. 

“And Heidi hasn’t even tried once to quarrel, Papa,” 
Clara added quickly. 

“That’s good. I am glad to hear it,” her father said, 
getting up from his chair. “But now you must let me get 
a bite to eat, Clara dear, for I haven’t had a thing all day. 


125 


126 


HEIDI 


ril come back to you afterward and show you what I’ve 
brought for you.” 

Mr. Sesemann went into the dining room, where Miss 
Rottenmeier was looking over the table which was laid 
for his luncheon. When he had sat down and the lady, 
a living image of bad tidings, had taken her place across 
from him, the master of the house turned to her and 
said— 

“But, my dear Miss Rottenmeier, what am I to think? 
You have put on a truly alarming look to welcome me 
with. What can be the matter? Clara seems in the best 
of health.” 

“Mr. Sesemann,” the housekeeper began very seri¬ 
ously, “Clara is suffering, too. We have been dreadfully 
cheated.” 

“In what way?” Mr. Sesemann asked, quietly taking a 
sip of wine. 

“Why, we had decided, as you know, to have a play¬ 
mate in the house for Clara. And as I realized how set 
you were on having only pure and good people about your 
daughter, I decided on a young Swiss girl. And I fully 
expected to see such a creature as I have read about in 
books, a girl, you know, born in the fresh mountain air, 
one who walks through life scarcely touching the ground 
beneath her feet.” 

“Still, I suppose,” Mr. Sesemann could not help saying, 
“even Swiss children touch the ground as they walk along, 
or they’d have wings instead of feet.” 

“Oh, you know what I mean, sir,” Miss Rottenmeier 
continued, “one of those beings you hear so much about, 


THE MASTER HEARS STRANGE THINGS 127 

who live in the pure air of the highlands and who sweep by 
us like a breath from another world.” 

“But what would Clara do with this breath from 
another world?” 

“Please, Mr. Sesemann, it is not a thing to joke about. 
The matter is more serious to me than you imagine. I 
have been terribly, really 'terribly, imposed upon.” 

“But what is so terrible, after all ? The child does not 
look so bad to me,” Mr. Sesemann said quietly. 

“There’s just one thing I simply must tell you, sir. 
You’ve no idea the sort of people and animals this child 
has filled your house with while you were away. I’ll leave 
that for the Herr Kandidat to tell you.” 

“With animals! Why, what do you mean by that?” 

“It can’t be explained, that’s all. None of the acts of 
this girl can be explained unless you believe that she has 
spells when she is not in her right mind.” 

Until this moment Mr. Sesemann had not paid much 
attention to the housekeeper’s words, but if Heidi was not 
in her right mind, that was another matter! That might 
be very serious for his daughter. He looked quite closely 
at Miss Rottenmeier to make sure that she herself was 
entirely sane. The door was opened just then and the 
university student appeared. 

“Ah, here comes our Herr Kandidat to tell us all about 
it,” Mr. Sesemann greeted the new arrival. “Come in, 
won’t you, and sit down by me.” And he stretched out a 
hand of welcome. 

“The Herr Kandidat will drink a cup of black coffee 
with me, Miss Rottenmeier. Sit down, sir, and make 


128 


HEIDI 


yourself quite at home. And now tell me, please, what is 
wrong with the child who has come to be my daughter's 
companion and your pupil. What is all this I hear about 
animals being brought into the house, and what sort of 
mind has she?" 

The university student could never give a direct answer 
to a simple question. First he had to tell Mr. Sesemann 
how glad he was to see him safe back again and to say 
that he had come especially to bid him welcome. 

But Mr. Sesemann urged him to stick to the point, 
and therefore Heidi's teacher began— 

“In telling you, sir, what I think of the character of 
this young girl, I shall have to say first of all especially 
that even if, on the one hand, she shows that her education 
is fairly weak—" 

Mr. Sesemann shook his head in mild despair. 

“■—a lack of mental growth caused perhaps by the 
fact that her teaching was begun somewhat late, or perhaps 
it is better to say caused by the more or less quiet life 
which she led when dwelling up in the Alps—" 

“Who is crazy now?" thought Mr. Sesemann. 

“—a quiet life, sir, which can, however, not be entirely 
thought of as bad, but which, on j the contrary, has without 
doubt in certain ways many good points, and if such a 
life is not carried on too long it may even be said—" 

“But, my dear fellow," Mr. Sesemann at last inter¬ 
rupted him, “you are really taking too much trouble. Just 
tell me this. Has the child frightened you by bringing 
animals into the house? And do you think her society 
good for my small daughter?" 


THE MASTER HEARS STRANGE THINGS 129 


“Far be it from me to hurt the little girl,” the university 
student began again, “for although, on the one hand, she 
shows that she does not know much about society, a lack 
of knowledge doubtless due to the more or less simple life 
that the young thing led up to the moment that she was 
brought to Frankfort—” 

“Excuse me, Herr Kandidat—” 

“—which new fact made a great change in the growth 
of this only half-grown and at least not yet fully developed 
creature, and yet, to be sure, on the other hand, one must 
not deny the decided talents of the child, who, if she is 
rightly led—” 

“Excuse me, Herr Kandidat, please! But I do not wish 
to disturb you further—I—I must pay a short visit to my 
daughter at once.” 

The master of the house fairly ran out of the door 
and did not return. Across the hall, in the library, he 
sat down beside Clara. Heidi had got up to give him her 
chair, and he turned to her and said— 

“Listen, little one, run and get me—wait a minute, 
let me see!—run and get me”—Mr. Sesemann really 
couldn’t think of anything he wanted, and yet Heidi must 
be sent away, if only for a minute—“oh, yes, run and get 
me a glass of water, won’t you?” 

“Cold water?” Heidi asked. 

“Oh, yes indeed. As cold as you can get it.” 

Heidi vanished. 

“And now, dear little Clara,” Papa said, drawing his 
chair up close to hers and taking her hand in his, “tell 
me straight as a string what sort of animals your little 


130 


HEIDI 


playmate has brought into our house. And tell me, too, 
why Miss Rottenmeier should think that sometimes she is 
not quite right in her head.” 

It was^easy for Clara to do this, for the frightened 
housekeeper had spoken to her of Heidi’s odd sayings, all 
of which, however, made good sense to Clara. First she 
told her father the story of the turtle and the kittens, and 
then she went on to explain the odd sayings which had so 
puzzled Miss Rottenmeier. 

This made Mr. Sesemann laugh right heartily. 

“Then you don’t want me to send the youngster home? 
You’re not tired of her?” he asked. 

“Oh my, no!” Clara begged him. “Don’t do that, 
Papa! Why, since Heidi’s come there’s something happen¬ 
ing every day, and it’s such good fun! Not at all the way 
it was before, when nothing ever happened. And Heidi 
tells me such lots of things.” 

/'All right, Clara dear. And there’s your little friend 
back again so soon. Well, did you get me fine cold water ?” 
Mr. Sesemanu asked as Heidi offered him a glass. 

“Right fresh from the well,” Heidi answered. 

“Surely, you didn’t go to the well yourself for it,” said 
Clara. 

“Of course I did. And it’s fresh as anything. Only 
I had to go so far for it, because there were so many people 
at the first well. Then I went down the street, but 
there were just as many waiting their turn at the second 
one. And then I went to another street, and there I got 
the water. And the gentleman with the white hair wants 
to be remembered to Mr. Sesemann.” 


THE MASTER HEARS STRANGE THINGS 131 


“Well, that was a quick trip,” laughed the master of 
the house. “And who may the old gentleman be?” 

“He was passing the well, but he stopped and said, 
'As you’ve a glass with you, why not give me a drink too? 
For whom are you getting the water?’ 'For Mr. Sese- 
mann,’ I said. And then he laughed right out and sent you 
his greetings and said he hoped you would like the water.” 

“You don’t say. I wonder who wanted to be remem¬ 
bered to me. How did the gentleman look?” 

“He has a nice laugh and a thick gold chain, and a 
gold thing with a big red stone hangs on it, and there’s 
a horse’s head on his stick.” 

“That is the doctor”—“That’s my old doctor,” both 
Clara and her father said in the same breath. 

Mr. Sesemann could not help laughing in secret when 
he thought of how surprised his friend would be at this 
new way of getting one’s water brought in. 

That same evening, when he was sitting in the dining 
room talking over all sorts of household matters with Miss 
Rottenmeier, Mr. Sesemann told her his daughter’s com¬ 
panion was to remain in the house. He thought the child 
was healthy in every way, and his daughter was very fond 
of her society and liked it better than any other. 

“And so I wish,” Mr. Sesemann added, “to have this 
child always treated kindly. Don’t think of her oddities 
as sins. Besides, Miss Rottenmeier, if you cannot get along 
with the child, there is every hope of your having good help 
in the near future. My mother is coming to pay us a long 
visit, and you remember that she can manage anyone, no 
matter how odd he may be, do you not?” 


132 


HEIDI 


“Oh, yes, I know that well enough,” the lady replied. 

But somehow her face did not look cheerful at this 
promise of help. 

Mr. Sesemann could take at this time only a short 
vacation, and after two weeks or so his business again 
called him to Paris. And when Clara insisted that she just 
couldn’t let him go away so soon, he comforted her by 
promising that Grandmama would soon arrive and was 
expected a few days later. 

And Mr. Sesemann had scarcely departed when a 
letter came to say that Mrs. Sesemann had already left 
Holstein, where she lived on an old estate. The letter 
gave the exact hour of her arrival on the next day, so that 
the carriage could be sent to the depot for her. 

Clara was overjoyed at this news, and that evening 
she talked so much and so long about her grandmama 
that Heidi, too, began to call her “Grandmama.” This 
action of Heidi’s brought a sour look from Miss Rotten- 
meier, but the child paid no heed to it, for by this time 
she had grown used to receiving such glances and took 
them as a matter of course. 

But, once Heidi was started on her way to bed, the 
housekeeper called her into her room and told her quite 
clearly that she must never use the name “Grandmama.” 
When Mrs. Sesemann came, Heidi must address her as 
“gracious lady.” 

“You understand, do you?” Miss Rottenmeier asked as 
Heidi looked at her in a funny way. But she gave the child 
such a cross look that Heidi did not dare ask questions, 
although she did not understand what the title meant. 


CHAPTER X 
A GRANDMA 

Next evening there were great preparations going on 
in the Sesemann household. In fact, there was such a to- 
do that it was plain the lady they were waiting for played 
a very important part in their thoughts. You could see 
that she was both loved and feared by all. 

Tinette had put a brand new lace cap on her head. 
Sebastian had scraped together a lot of footstools and put 
them in all possible places, so the great lady could find 
one right under her feet, no matter where she might sit 
down to rest. Miss Rottenmeier, very stiff and straight, 
walked through the rooms examining everything, as if to 
show that her own rule was by no means at an end e^en if 
a second lady of the house was coming. 

And then the carriage rolled up before the house, and 
Sebastian and Tinette went flying down the steps. Slowly 
and with, dignity the housekeeper followed them, for she 
knew she also must be present to welcome Mrs. Sesemann. 

Heidi had been ordered 'to stay in her room and to wait 
there until she was sent for, because Grandmama would 
first go to see Clara and of course would want to be alone 
with her awhile. So Heidi sat down in a corner and said 
over the words she was to use to the new arrival. But it was 
hardly any time at all before Tinette thrust the tip of her 
nose in at the door and said snippily, just as always— 

“Off with you to the library!” 


133 


134 


HEIDI 


Heidi had been unable to ask Miss Rottenmeier 
again about the strange words she was to use with Grand- 
mama. She thought perhaps the housekeeper had made 
a mistake, since always before she had heard people spoken 
to as Mr. or Mrs. and their real names afterward. So 
she settled the matter to her own satisfaction. 

When 6he opened the library door, Grandmama called 
out to her in a cheery voice— 

“Ah, there’s the child! Come over here to me and 
let’s have a good look at you.” 

Heidi did as she was told. And in her clear voice she 
said quite distinctly, “Good day, Mrs. Gracious!” 

“Mrs. Gracious? Frau Gnadige?” laughed Grand¬ 
mama. “Oh me, oh my! Is that what they say where 
you come from? Is that what you’ve heard at home in 
the Alps?” 

“Oh, no. Nobody has such a name in my house,” 
Heidi answered seriously. 

“Well, there’s no such person here, either,” Grand¬ 
mama said with another laugh, as she patted Heidi’s 
cheek affectionately. “But don’t you mind! In the 
nursery I am just Grandmama. And you can remember 
to call me that, can’t you?” 

“Surely I can,” Heidi assured the nice lady. “That’s 
what I always called you before.” 

“That’s as it should be,” Grandmama said, nodding 
her head and smiling. 

Then she looked at Heidi very closely and from time 
to time would nod her head again. And Heidi kept looking 
steadily into her eyes, for they were so kind that they 


A GRANDMA 


i35 


made the child very happy. All of Grandmama, in fact, 
pleased her so much that she simply had to stand and stare 
at her. She had such pretty white hair, and wore a lovely 
lace frill around her head, and two broad ribbons fluttered 
away from her cap and kept moving here and there, as if 
a gentle breeze was always blowing around Grandmama, 
and Heidi thought that specially charming. 

“And what's your name, dear?" Grandmama suddenly 
asked. 

“My real name's only Heidi. But, because I'm to be 
called Adelheid, I always answer if—” and right there 
Heidi suddenly stuck and felt a little guilty, for she 
remembered that she did not always answer when Miss 
Rottenmeier unexpectedly called her “Adelheid." You see, 
she couldn't quite feel that this was her name. And here 
was Miss Rottenmeier coming into the room at this very 
minute. 

“Mrs. Sesemann, I am sure, will justify me in choosing 
a name which can at least be spoken without one's feeling 
ashamed, even if just before the servants." 

“My dear Rottenmeier," replied Mrs. Sesemann, “if 
a human being goes and gets called ‘Heidi' and answers 
to that name, then that's what I call him. That's all there 
is to that!" 

It was very annoying to Miss Rottenmeier to have 
the old lady constantly address her by name simply, with¬ 
out putting “Miss" before it. But there was no help for 
it. Grandmama had her own way of doing things and 
stuck to it, no matter how one might feel about it. What 
was more, the old lady had all her five senses and knew 


136 ' HEIDI 

what was going on in a house the minute she stepped 
inside of it. 

On the day after her arrival, when Clara as usual was 
lying down after dinner, Grandmama sat down beside her 
in an arm chair and closed her eyes for a few moments. 
Soon, however, she got up again, for after forty winks 
she was as wide awake as ever, and walked out into the 
dining room. It was empty. 

“Clara is fast asleep,” she said to herself. 

So she went to the room of Lady Rottenmeier and 
pounded loudly on the door. After some little delay the 
housekeeper answered to the knocking, only to start back 
in much amazement at this unexpected visit. 

“Where does the child keep herself at this hour, and 
what is she up to? I’d like to know,” Mrs. Sesemann 
said. 

“She is sitting in her room, where she might find some¬ 
thing useful for her two hands to do if she had the least 
desire for such work. But Mrs. Sesemann really ought 
to know what silly acts the creature plans at such times, 
and often goes ahead and does them—things really that 
one can scarcely speak of in good society.” 

“Just what I should do myself if I had to sit bottled up 
the way this child does. Oh, I’m quite sure I should. And 
then you would see how much of my silliness could be 
mentioned in polite society! Go get the child and bring 
her into my room. I’m going to give her some pretty books 
I bought for her.” 

“But that’s just what you can’t do, you’ll see!” cried 
Miss Rottenmeier, holding up her hands in horror. 



Shortly after Heidi went to her room , Fraiilein Rottenmeier appeared 







































































































































































































* 







































A GRANDMA 


137 


“What can the child do with books, Mrs. Sesemann ? In 
all this time she has not even learned her ABC's. You 
really can’t get a single idea into the creature’s head. You 
ask the Herr Kandidat if you can. If that good fellow 
did not have the patience of the heavenly angels them¬ 
selves, he would have given up trying to teach her anything 
long ago.” 

“Indeed! That’s very strange. The child does not 
look to me like one that cannot learn her ABC’s,” Mrs. 
Sesemann said. “Bring her to me, anyway. She can at 
least look at the pictures in the books.” 

Miss Rottenmeier had it in mind to say something 
more, but Mrs. Sesemann had already turned away and was 
hurrying to her room. She was very much surprised at 
what she heard about Heidi’s stupidity. She thought she 
would look into the matter without saying anything to the 
university student, even though she did not like him because 
of his good manners. She was glad to speak to him in 
a very kindly way whenever they met, but she always 
got away from him as soon as she could and kept from 
having a long talk with him, because his manner of saying 
things was very wearying to her. 

So shortly after Heidi went to her room, Fraulein 
Rottenmeier appeared to call her. She went into Grand- 
mama’s room and opened her eyes wide when she saw the 
splendidly colored pictures in the books the old lady had 
brought her. But all at once the child screamed loudly 
after Grandmama had turned over a new page. With 
glowing eyes she looked at the figures in the picture, and 
then her eyes filled with hot tears and she began to sob. 

10 


138 


HEIDI 


Grandmama looked closely at the picture. It showed 
a pretty green meadow where all sorts of animals were 
grazing and feeding on young shrubs. In the middle 
stood the shepherd, who was leaning on his long staff and 
gazing at the happy creatures. A golden light rested on 
the whole scene, for the sun was just sinking below the 
horizon. 

The old lady took Heidi’s hand in hers. 

“Come, come, my dear,” she said in the nicest way, 
“you really mustn’t cry so. I suppose the picture made 
you think of something, but see here, there’s a real pretty 
story about it, and I’ll tell it to you this evening. And 
there are lots of other lovely stories in the book, too. We’ll 
read them and tell them to each other later. And now we 
must have a little talk together. So wipe away your tears 
and stand right before me where I can see you clearly. 
That’s good! Now we are happy again.” 

But it was still some time before Heidi could quite 
stop sobbing. Grandmama waited a few moments for her 
to recover, saying now and then, to encourage the child— 

“There! Everything is all right, and we’re just as 
happy as ever we were.” 

When at last she saw that Heidi was comforted, she 
said— 

“Now, my dear, there’s something I want to know. 
How are you getting along in your lessons with the Herr 
Kandidat? Have you learned a good deal and do you 
understand things?” 

“Oh, no,” Heidi said, with a sigh, “but I knew from 
the start that you couldn’t learn it.” 


4 


***** 'm 


\ 



Nothing seemed so strange or wonderful to Heidi as the mysterious 
sounds in the tops of the trees. 

















A GRANDMA 


139 


“What do you mean, Heidi, by saying that you knew 
the lessons couldn’t be learned?” 

“Children can’t learn to read. It’s too hard for them.” 

“Why, what a notion! And where did you learn this 
strange fact?” 

“Peter told me so. And I guess he knows, for he 
always has to keep trying it and he can never get it, it’s 
too hard.” 

“Well! Peter must be a strange lad, I must say. But, 
look here, Heidi, you mustn’t believe everything that 
Peter tells you. You must just try for yourself. Surely 
you can’t have put your whole mind on what your teacher 
was saying and looked carefully at his letters.” 

“That doesn’t do any good,” Heidi said in the voice 
of one who gives in to fate. 

“Let me tell you something,” said Grandmama. “You 
have not learned to read, Heidi, just because you believed 
what Peter said. Suppose you now believe what I. tell 
you. Really and truly, you can learn to read in almost no 
time, just as lots of other children do who are like you and 
not like Peter.” 

“Oh, goody!” 

“And then just think of what will happen when you 
can read. You saw the shepherd standing in the pretty 
green meadow? Well, the minute that you can read, this 
book will be your very own and then you can learn every¬ 
thing about him, just as if someone told you the story. 
You’ll know all that he is doing with his sheep and his 
goats, and the strange things that happen to him. You 
would like that, wouldn’t you, Heidi?” 


140 


HEIDI 


The child had listened to Grandmama with the closest 
attention. And then she drew a deep breath and said, 
with shining eyes— 

“I wish I could read this minute!” 

“It will come to you, and I can see that it will not be 
long now, Heidi. But we must go and see what Clara’s 
doing. Come, we will take the pretty books along.” 

Grandmama took Heidi’s hand in hers and went with 
her to the study.— 

There was a day, you remember, when Heidi had 
wanted to go home. That was the day when Miss 
Rottenmeier scolded her so terribly out on the front steps, 
and told her how naughty and bad she was to wish to run 
away, and what a good thing it was that Mr. Sesemann 
didn’t know about it. 

Well, from that time a change had taken place in 
Heidi. 

She had been made to understand that she could not 
go home whenever she felt like it, as Aunty Dete had 
promised her, but that she must stay in Frankfort for 
ever and ever so long, perhaps for always. She had also 
been;made to think that when Mr. Sesemann came home 
heAvould find her very naughty for wanting to leave, and 
Heidi supposed that Grandmama and Clara would feel the 
same way about it. So Heidi could tell no one that she 
was homesick, because Grandmama had been so good to 
her that she could not bear to make her cross the way she 
had made Miss Rottenmeier. 

So it was that Heidi’s heart grew heavier with each 
new day.' She lost her appetite for food. She kept growing 


A GRANDMA 


141 

more wan and white. She often lay awake at night for 
hours, because, the moment that she was by herself and 
all had grown still around her, she began to see living 
pictures of the mountain pasture, and the sunlight on it, 
and the flowers. And when she did finally go to sleep, 
there would come to her in her dreams the ruddy sharp 
rocks of Falkniss or the gleaming snow fields of Casaplana. 
At such a time she would awake in the early morning 
prepared to dash joyfully out of the hut—only to discover 
that she was in her big bed in Frankfort so far away from 
her Swiss mountains, and she could not go home! 

Then Heidi would often bury her face in the pillow 
and cry for a long time, but so gently that nobody heard 
her. 

The child’s grief did not escape Grandmama’s sharp 
eyes. The old lady waited for several days to see if a 
change for the better would come and Heidi would lose 
her sadness. But as Heidi’s mood continued to be the 
same and Grandmama often noticed early in the morn¬ 
ing that Heidi had been weeping, she finally took the 
child to her room one day, looked at her very kindly, and 
said— 

“Tell me what’s the matter, dear. Have you some 
trouble?” 

Heidi was afraid of seeming naughty to this nice 
grandmama and of making her less friendly, so she 
answered— 

“There’s just nothing to say.” 

“There isn’t ? Could you tell Clara about it, I wonder ?” 
asked Grandmama. 


142 


HEIDI 


“Oh, no, not a living soul!” Heidi said quickly. And 
then she looked so unhappy that the old lady's heart was 
filled with pity. 

“Listen, dear,” she said, “I'll tell you something. When 
we have a sorrow that we can't share with anyone, we 
tell it to the dear God in Heaven and we ask him to help 
us, for he can take away every thought that makes us 
sad. You know that, Heidi, don’t you? Don't you pray 
every night to the dear God in Heaven and thank Him 
for all your blessings and beg Him to keep you from 
harm ?” 

“Oh, no, I never do that,” the child answered. 

“Have you never said a prayer, dear? Don't you 
know how to pray?” 

“I used to pray a little with the first grandmother, 
but that is so long ago I’ve forgotten all about it.” 

“See, dear, that's what makes you so sad, because you 
don't know anyone who can help you. Just think of how 
good it feels, when your heart is sad and heavy, to know 
you can go at any moment to dear God and tell him your 
trouble, and ask him to help you when no one else can. 
And he can always help us and give us things to make us 
happy again.” 

A look of joy flashed into Heidi's eyes. 

“Can you tell Him everything, just everything?” 

“There is nothing we cannot tell Him, Heidi.” 

The child drew her hand away from Grandmama and 
said quickly— 

“Can I go now, please?” 

“Of course you can,” the old lady answered. 


A GRANDMA 


143 


Heidi ran off to her room, sat down on a footstool, 
folded her little hands, and told the dear God everything 
that was in her heart to make it heavy. And she asked 
Him to help her and let her go home to her grandfather.— 

A little more than a week may have passed since this 
day of prayer when the university student asked to see 
Mrs. Sesemann as he had something important to say to 
her. He was asked to come to her room, and the moment 
he entered it Mrs. Sesemann offered him her hand and 
said— 

“I bid you welcome, my dear Herr Kandidat. Sit 
down by me, please, and tell me your message. It is nothing 
unpleasant, I hope. ,, 

She pushed a chair toward her visitor. 

“Quite the opposite, dear lady!” the university student 
began. “Do you know the strangest thing has happened, 
a thing that nobody could have possibly seen in anything 
that went before it, for, from all that I could tell, what has 
just occurred appears to be absolutely impossible, and yet 
it has happened in the strangest way, although it is exactly 
opposite to anything I had a right to expect—” 

“You don’t mean to say the child has learned to read, 
Herr Kandidat?” broke in Mrs. Sesemann. 

The university student stared at the old lady, greatly 
astonished that she had guessed his errand. 

“Oh, it is very strange indeed,” he said, after a while, 
“not only that the little girl did not learn her ABC’s in 
spite of my clear explanations and the trouble I took with 
her, but also that now in no time at all, after I had decided 
to give up what could not be done and without explaining 


144 


HEIDI 


them at all thoroughly to present to the eyes of the young 
girl the naked letters themselves, so to speak—” 

“She began suddenly to understand?” Grandmama 
asked. 

“Why, yes. She learned to read overnight, you might 
say, and at once began to read with a correctness which I 
have found in few beginners. But a fact that is almost as 
strange to me, dear lady, is that you knew straight off the 
truth of my most queer message.” 

“Many wonderful things happen in this life of ours,” 
Mrs. Sesemann said, with a pleased smile. “Two different 
things sometimes occur at the same time, such as a new 
interest in studying and a new way of teaching, and neither 
of these can do any harm, Herr Kandidat. Let’s just be 
happy that the child has got along so well, and hope for 
further progress.” 

She walked to the door with her visitor and then went 
quickly to the library, in order to make sure with her own 
eyes that the good news was true. Sure enough! Heidi 
was sitting beside Clara and reading a story to her, and 
you could see the great surprise and the growing excite¬ 
ment with which she was looking into the new world that 
was opening up to her, now that at last people and facts 
stepped out from the black letters and became living and 
had stirring adventures. 

That very same evening, as they sat down to dinner, 
Heidi found the big book with the pretty pictures lying 
on her plate. And when she looked across at Grandmama 
with a question in her eyes, the old lady said with a nod— 

“Yes, dear, the book belongs to you now.” 


A GRANDMA 


145 

“For ever and ever? To take home with me?” Heidi 
asked, her cheeks red with happiness. 

“Of course. For keeps!” Grandmama assured her. 
“Tomorrow you and I will begin to read it.” 

“But you’re not going home, Heidi, not for many years 
to come,” Clara said. “When Grandmama goes away 
again this time, you’ll just have to stay close by me.” 

Heidi had to look at her book before she could ever 
go to sleep that night up in her room, and from that day 
forward it was her dearest possession. She loved nothing 
better than to sit over her book and read again and again 
the stories that went with the bright pretty pictures. 
When in the evening Grandmama would say, “Now Heidi’s 
going to read for us,” Heidi would be delighted, because 
the book had become easy for her. The stories seemed 
more beautiful and real to her when she read them aloud, 
and Grandmama made things very clear to her and told 
her much that was not in the book. But, best of all, the child 
liked to sit and gaze at her green meadow and the 
shepherd in the midst of his flocks, as he stood leaning so 
contentedly on his long staff. For he was happy to be with 
his father’s fine herd and to walk with the happy sheep 
and goats who were his delight. 

But right after that followed the picture where the 
shepherd had run away from his father’s house and was 
living in a strange land. He had to tend the swine, and 
the husks, which were all he had to eat, had made him 
very thin. The sun no longer shone with such a golden 
light in this picture, and the whole scene was gray and 
misty. 


146 


HEIDI 


Happily, however, there was another picture to this 
story. In it the father was shown coming from the house 
with outspread arms and running to welcome the returning 
prodigal son who was stealing home all ragged and hungry 
and sorry. This was the story that Heidi loved best. She 
read it over and over aloud and to herself. And she never 
grew tired of hearing Grandmama tell things about it. 

There were a great many other beautiful tales in the 
book. Reading these and looking at their pictures made 
the days pass by very quickly, and soon the time was at 
hand when Grandmama had decided to end her visit. 


CHAPTER XI 


HEIDI IMPROVES IN SOME WAYS AND GROWS 
WORSE IN OTHERS 

Every afternoon during the whole of her visit, when 
Clara lay down for her nap and Miss Rottenmeier was mys¬ 
teriously absent, perhaps herself in need of rest, Grand- 
mama settled down beside Clara for a moment. But 
before five minutes were gone she would be up on her feet 
again and would be calling Heidi into her room to chat with 
her, keep her busy in all sorts of ways, and entertain her. 

Grandmama had pretty little dolls and showed Heidi 
how to make dresses and aprons for them. And almost 
before you knew it, the child had learned how to sew and 
was making the finest dresses and cloaks for the little 
people, for the old lady had pieces of cloth of the most 
gorgeous colors. 

Now that Heidi could read, she was always asked to 
read some of her stories aloud to Grandmama. She loved 
to do this, because the oftener she went over her tales, 
the dearer they grew to her. The things which happened to 
the story-book people were so real to Heidi that the bond 
between them was very close and she was happy to spend 
her time in their companionship. Still, she never looked 
entirely happy, and her eyes no longer shone as gaily as 
they had formerly done. 

It was thp last week that Grandmama was to spend in 
Frankfort. She had just called for Heidi to come to her 


147 


148 


HEIDI 


room, for it was the hour when Clara took her nap. As 
Heidi entered with her big book under her arm, Grand- 
mama beckoned to her to come up close, laid the book 
aside, and said— 

“Now come, my dear, and tell me why are you not 
happy? Is the same old trouble in your heart?” 

“Yes,” said Heidi with a nod. 

“Did you take it to dear God in prayer?” 

“Yes.” 

“And are you still praying every day that all will come 
right, and that God will give you joy?” 

“Oh, no, I never pray any longer.” 

“What’s that you say, Heidi? Why, what are you 
telling me? You really have stopped praying?” 

“It’s no use. The dear God paid no attention to me. 
And I really do believe,” Heidi went on, “that when so 
many people in Frankfort are praying all at the same time 
of night, of course the dear God can’t hear what they all 
say. And He certainly did not listen to me.” 

“Indeed! How can you be so sure of that, my dear ?” 

“I made the same prayer every day for many long 
weeks and the dear God never answered it.” 

“That cannot happen, Heidi, and you must not think 
it can. Don’t you see, the dear God is a loving Father to 
us all, and He always knows what is best for us, even 
when we ourselves do not. Now if we pray to Him for 
something that is not good for us, He does not grant it. 
But if we keep on praying with all our heart and don’t run 
right away and lose our trust in Him, then He always 
gives us something better than we ask for.” 


CHANGES FOR BETTER AND WORSE 149 

“Why, I never thought of that!" said Heidi. 

“See? What you wanted Him to grant you was not 
good for you at just that moment. Be sure that the dear 
God heard your prayer, because he can hear and see all 
people at the same time. That's why he is God, and not 
a human being like you and me. And because He knew 
perfectly what was good for you, He said to Himself, 
“There's Heidi. Of course she must have what she asks 
for, but not until it is good for her, so she can get the most 
joy from it. For if I do what she wants right away, and 
if she finds out later it would have been better for me not 
to do it, then she will weep and say, ‘Oh, I wish the dear 
God had not given me what I asked Him to! It isn't 
nearly as nice as I thought it would be.' And while the 
dear God was looking down from the sky to see if you 
really trusted Him and came every day to Him and never 
failed to look to Him when anything went wrong—why, 
you ran right away, without trusting at all, and didn’t 
pray, and forgot the dear God entirely." 

“I shouldn't have done that, should I, Grandmama?" 

“No, dear. For, you see, when a person acts that way 
and the dear God never hears his voice raised in prayer, 
why, then He forgets that person, too, and lets him go 
wherever he will. And when he is unhappy and cries out, 
‘There is no one to help me!’ then we have no pity for 
that person, but say to him, ‘It was you who ran away 
from the dear God who could have helped you!' Do you 
want that to be said of you, Heidi, or do you want to go 
this minute to the dear God and tell Him you are sorry 
you turned away from Him? Will you tell Him that 


150 


HEIDI 


you will pray every day and trust Him to do what is best 
for you, so that your heart can be happy again ?” 

Heidi had listened very carefully. Each word of 
Grandmama’s had gone straight to her heart, because she 
had such perfect trust in her. 

“I will go this minute and ask the dear God to forgive 
me, and I never will forget Him again,” Heidi said, truly 
sorry. 

“That’s right, my dear. And you may be sure He will 
always help you when the time comes,” Grandmama said. 

Heidi ran across to her room at once and prayed 
earnestly to the dear God, asking Him not to forget her 
but to look down on her again in pity. 

The last day of Grandmama’s stay had come, and it 
was a day of sorrow to Clara and Heidi. But up to the 
very moment when she rode off in her carriage Grand¬ 
mama succeeded in managing things so that the children 
scarcely felt the sadness of the day, but looked upon it 
rather as a time of rejoicing. But when she had finally 
gone, then the house seemed as empty and quiet as if the 
world had come to an end. Clara and Heidi sat around 
all the rest of the day as if lost and had no idea what was 
going to happen next. 

The following day, when the lessons were over and 
it was the usual time for the children to sit together, Heidi 
came to Clara with her book under her arm and said— 

“After this, I’m always going to read aloud to you. 
Would you like to have me?” 

Clara said that this suited her exactly, and so Heidi 
began her new duties at once. But it was not long before 


CHANGES FOR BETTER AND WORSE 151 

there came a sudden end to things, because Heidi had 
scarcely begun to read a story which told how a grand¬ 
mother was dying, when she suddenly screamed— 

“Oh, now Grandmother is dead!” 

She broke down and cried, for she thought everything 
she read about was actually taking place, and so she firmly 
believed that the grandmother on the mountain meadow 
had died. Her cries grew louder and louder. 

“Now Grandmother is dead, and I can never go to 
see her again, and she didn’t get a single other roll from 
me.” 

Clara tried as hard as she could to show Heidi that 
the story was not talking about the old lady on the mountain 
meadow, but about another grandmother entirely. But 
even after Clara had finally succeeded in explaining to the 
excited Heidi her mistake, the child could not be quieted 
and kept weeping harder than ever. For the awful 
thought had suddenly come to her that Grandmother 
might die anyway while she was so far away from her, 
and perhaps her grandfather would die, too. And then 
after a long time, when she should go home again, the 
mountain pasture would be as still as death, and she would 
be there all alone, and could never again see her dear ones. 

In the meantime Miss Rottenmeier had come into 
the room and heard Clara trying to explain to Heidi her 
mistake. When she saw that the child still could not 
stop her sobbing, she went up to the two girls with evident 
impatience and said crossly— 

“Adelheid, that’s enough of your silly screaming! I 
want to tell you something. If ever again while reading 


152 


HEIDI 


your stories you give way to such a fit of crying, I’ll take 
your book and never hand it back to you.” 

That worked. Heidi grew pale with fear. The book 
was her dearest possession. She dried her tears in great 
hurry and choked down her sobs as hard as she could, and 
did not utter another peep. The housekeeper’s threat had 
its effect. Heidi never wept again, no matter what she 
read. Sometimes she had to try so hard to conquer her 
sobs and not cry out that Clara would say to her in great 
surprise— 

“Why, Heidi, you’re making the most awful faces I 
ever saw!” 

But Heidi’s faces did not make any noise and therefore 
did not disturb Lady Rottenmeier. And after Heidi had 
got the best of her dreadful fit of grief, everything would 
go on as before and her grief would soon be forgotten. 

With it all, however, Heidi so lost her appetite and 
looked so thin and pale that Sebastian could hardly bear 
to look on in silence and see how the child at dinner let 
the nicest dishes pass by untouched. So, when he passed 
her a dish, he would often whisper encouragingly to her— 

“Take some of this, little Mamsell, it is excellent. Oh, 
not such a small helping! Take a large spoonful of it 
and then another one.” 

Much similar fatherly advice he gave her. But it did 
no good. She no longer ate much of anything, and when 
at night she lay on her pillow, like a flash everything at 
home came to her eyes. She would then be so homesick 
that she Wept on her pillow, but quite softly, so that it 
would disturb no one. 


CHANGES FOR BETTER AND WORSE 153 

In this way a long time passed by. Heidi herself 
never had an idea whether it was summer or winter, for 
the walls that she saw from the windows of the Sesemann 
house never seemed to change. She went out of doors only 
when Clara was feeling well and could be taken for a 
drive in the carriage. And this was always a short drive, 
because Clara was not strong enough to go very far. So 
they seldom got beyond the paved streets and the walls 
of the town, but usually turned around and kept driving 
through the broad, beautiful city streets, where there were 
to be seen plenty of houses and people, but no grass and 
flowers, no fir trees, and no mountains. Heidi’s longing 
for the lovely natural objects she had been used to grew 
greater every day. If some chance word brought up the 
memory of one of these things, it was all Heidi could do 
to bear the pain which came to her, and she had to struggle 
with all her might not to show her unhappiness. 

So autumn and winter passed by, and once again the 
sun was shining so glaringly on the white walls of the 
houses across from her that Heidi guessed the time was 
drawing near when Peter drove the goats up to the moun¬ 
tain pasture. The rockroses would be again gleaming 
in the sunlight, and every evening the mountains round 
about would stand in flames. 

Poor Heidi! She would sit down in a far corner of 
her lonely room and hold both hands to her eyes so she 
could not see the sunshine on the wall over across from 
her. And thus she would sit without moving, silently 
fighting down her burning homesickness, until Clara called 
for her again. 

11 


CHAPTER XII 

THE SESEMANN HOUSE IS HAUNTED 

For some days Miss Rottenmeier had been wandering 
around the house, for the most part silently rapt in 
thought. 

Whenever, along about twilight, she walked from one 
room to another or down the long hall, she would often 
look about her, into the corners, or steal a quick glance 
behind her now and then, as if she thought someone might 
be following her on tiptoe to pull unseen at her skirt. But 
when she was alone she went only into the lighted living 
rooms. 

Now, sometimes at dusk, she had things to attend to 
on the upper floor where the beautifully furnished guest 
rooms were located. Or she would have an errand, per¬ 
haps, downstairs in the great mysterious reception hall, 
in which every footstep echoed back from afar, and the 
old councillors, with their big white ruff collars, looked 
down from their frames with so stern and unchanging a 
gaze. At such a time Miss Rottenmeier would regularly 
ring for Tinette and tell the maid she must come along, 
pretending there might be some bit of furniture to be 
carried up or down. 

Strangely enough, Tinette did just the same thing. If 
she had any work to do upstairs or down she would call for 
Sebastian and tell him to go with her, for she might have 
something to shift about which she could not manage alone. 


154 


THE SESEMANN HOUSE IS HAUNTED 155 

What was even more funny, Sebastian himself went 
through exactly the same performance. If he was sent 
to one of the more distant rooms, he fetched Johann and 
made him go along for fear he alone would not be strong 
enough to carry what was needed. 

And each one of them was always glad to answer the 
other's call, although there never was anything really to 
be carried, and each might just as well have gone alone. 
But it looked as if the companion always figured that he 
might soon have need of the other for a similar service. 
And while these strange doings were going on upstairs, 
down in her kitchen the cook, who had been with Mr. Sese- 
mann for many years, would stand among her pots and 
pans, shake her head, and sigh— 

'That I should live to see this day!" 

For a long time there had been something strange going 
on in the Sesemann house. Each morning when the serv¬ 
ants came downstairs, they found the front door open, 
and yet far and near there was no one to be seen who 
could be blamed for the fact. The first days that this 
happened, all the rooms and closets of the house were 
eagerly searched to discover what might have been stolen. 
For it was thought a thief might have hidden himself in 
the house and escaped with his booty later in the night. 
But this was evidently not the state of the case, for not a 
single thing in the whole house was missing. 

At night the door was now not only double locked, but 
the wooden bar was also placed across it. It made no 
difference. In the morning the door stood wide open. No 
matter how early in the morning the servants in their 


156 


HEIDI 


excitement might come trooping down, there was the door 
ajar. And yet there was the whole neighborhood still 
sunk in deep sleep, and the windows and doors of all the 
other houses were still tightly bolted. 

At last Johann and Sebastian got up their courage and 
prepared to spend the night below in the room that opened 
off the great hall, there to await whatever might happen. 

Lady Rottenmeier hunted out several of Mr. Sese- 
mann’s firearms and gave Sebastian a large bottle of 
brandy, so that they might feel strong enough to put up 
a brave fight with the robber, if it should be necessary. 

The two servants took their places on the appointed 
evening and at once began to drink a little brandy for the 
sake of their strength. This made them first talkative 
and afterward very sleepy, whereupon they both leaned 
back in their chairs and dozed. When the old clock in the 
tower across the way struck midnight, Sebastian gathered 
himself together and called out to his comrade. But 
Johann was not easily wakened. Every time Sebastian 
called him he would turn his head from one side of the 
chair back to the other and pass off to sleep again. 

Sebastian, however, now began to listen eagerly, for 
he was by this time as wide awake as he could be. It was 
as still as death about him; there was not a single sound 
to be heard even from the street. You may believe that 
Sebastian did not go to sleep again, because there was a 
queer feeling in the deep silence about him, and it was 
in low tones that he kept calling to Johann, and he shook 
him a little from time to time. Finally, when it struck 
one o'clock up above there, Johann woke up and came to 


THE SESEMANN HOUSE IS HAUNTED 157 


realize clearly why he was sitting up in a chair and not 
lying safe in his bed. Suddenly he started up quite bravely 
and cried out— 

“Well, Sebastian, we must have a look out in the cor¬ 
ridor and see how things are. Don’t be afraid. You just 
follow me.” 

The door to the hall was slightly ajar. Johann threw 
it wide open and left the room. At the same moment a 
strong gust of air from the open entrance door blew in 
and put out the candle that Johann was holding in his hand. 

The servant started back and almost upset Sebastian, 
who was standing right behind him. Then he dragged his 
companion back into the room that they had just left, 
slammed the door shut, and in great haste turned the key 
in the lock as far as it would go. Then he got out his 
matches and lighted his candle again. Sebastian did not 
know just what had happened because, standing behind 
Johann’s broad back, he had not felt the draught of air 
so plainly. But as soon as he could see Johann’s face in 
the light, he uttered a frightened cry. Johann was as white 
as chalk, and trembling like a leaf. 

“What’s wrong? Tell me, what was that outside?” 
Sebastian asked anxiously. 

“The door was standing wide open,” Johann panted, 
“and on the steps there was a white figure. Look, 
Sebastian—right up the steps like that—swis-s-sh—and 
vanished into thin air!” 

Cold shivers ran down the length of Sebastian’s back. 

Then the two servants sat down as close to each other 
as they could, and they didn’t move a muscle until bright 


158 


HEIDI 


daylight had come and people were again stirring about 
out on the street. Then together they left the room, closed 
the front door, which was still standing wide open, and 
went upstairs to report to Miss Rottenmeier what had 
happened. 

Early as the hour was, they found this lady all ready 
to receive them, because she had not slept a wink for 
thinking of what might be going on downstairs. The 
moment she learned what had happened, she sat down and 
wrote a letter to Mr. Sesemann, one such as he had never 
received before and probably never would again. She 
began it by saying that she was so afraid she could 
not move her fingers. She asked Mr. Sesemann to pack 
his belongings without a moment’s delay and come straight 
home, for the most unheard-of things were happening 
there. Then she told just what had occurred—the front 
door was open regularly every morning, everyone in the 
house was in danger of his life with the door ajar the 
whole night through, and what the terrible results of this 
strange situation might be, none could say. 

Now, Mr. Sesemann answered by return mail that 
it was impossible for him to close up his business so sud¬ 
denly and come home. The ghost story surprised him 
greatly, but he hoped it would be a thing of the past 
before his letter was received. Meanwhile, if the ghost 
refused to be laid, Miss Rottenmeier would do well to 
write Mrs. Sesemann and ask her if she would not come 
to Frankfort to their assistance. His mother would surely 
get rid of the ghosts so fast that they would never again 
dare disturb the quiet of his home. 


THE SESEMANN HOUSE IS HAUNTED 159 


Miss Rottenmeier was not the least bit pleased at the 
tone of this letter. She took the matter of the ghost too 
seriously to enjoy such teasing. She wrote at once to 
Mrs. Sesemann, but she got no better results here, either, 
for the old lady’s reply contained some very plain words. 

For example, she said she had no intention of making 
a special trip from Holstein to Frankfort just because 
Rottenmeier saw ghosts. What was more, a ghost had 
never been seen in the Sesemann house, and if such a thing 
was wandering there now, it couldn’t possibly be anything 
more than a human being, and Rottenmeier should settle 
with it at once. If this were impossible, she might call in 
the night policeman to help her. 

But Miss Rottenmeier had made up her mind to 
spend no more days of terror, and she knew how to help 
matters. Until this moment she had said nothing to the 
two children about the ghost, for she was afraid they 
would be so scared that they would not want to stay alone 
a single minute day or night, and that would cause her a 
great deal of extra trouble. Now, however, she went 
straight to the study, where the two were sitting together, 
and in a low tone of voice she told them about the unknown 
creature who walked around the house every night. 

Clara, of course, cried out at once that she would not 
stay alone another second, that Papa must come home, 
that Miss Rottenmeier must move over into her room to 
sleep, and that Heidi must not be left alone either, or the 
ghost would get in and do harm to her. She wanted them 
all to stay in the same room and leave a light burning all 
night. And Tinette must sleep next door. And Sebastian 


i6o 


HEIDI 


and Johann must come down, too, and spend the night in 
the hall, so they could scream and scare away the ghost 
if it got to coming down the steps. 

Clara was terribly excited. It was all that Miss 
Rottenmeier could do to quiet her. The housekeeper prom¬ 
ised to write to her papa at once, to bring her own bed 
into Clara’s room, and never to leave her alone again. 
Still, she said, they could not all sleep in a single room, 
and if Adelheid was afraid, then Tinette must put up a 
couch beside her. But Heidi was more afraid of Tinette 
than she was of ghosts, because she had never even heard 
of such creatures, and she said therefore that she wasn’t 
afraid of any ghost and would much sooner stay in her 
place by herself. 

No sooner was this decided than Lady Rottenmeier 
ran to her writing desk and reported to Mr. Sesemann 
that the strange things which were going on every night 
in the house were having such an effect on the delicate 
health of his daughter that no one could tell what awful 
results there might be. She had known of cases where 
terrible fits resulted from such conditions. His daughter 
was exposed to any sort of misfortune if her state of 
terror should last much longer. 

This second letter stirred things up. 

Two days later Mr. Sesemann stood before the door 
of his house and pulled so hard on the bell that people came 
running from all directions and stared at each other open- 
mouthed. For they were sure that the evil spirit was now 
beginning to play his wicked jokes without waiting for 
night to come. From the second story Sebastian carefully 


THE SESEMANN HOUSE IS HAUNTED 161 


peered down through the crack in a window blind. But 
just then there was another ring at the bell, so full of 
impatience that no one could doubt any longer that it was 
a living hand behind the powerful jerk. 

Sebastian recognized whose hand it was, ran pell-mell 
out of the room and down the stairs, and managed to land 
on his feet long enough to tear open the front door. Mr. 
Sesemann nodded quickly to him, but without a single 
word of greeting to him started upstairs for his daughter’s 
room. 

Clara welcomed her father with a cry of joy, and 
when he saw her looking as well and happy as usual the 
frown of worry left his brow and his face cleared. He 
heard from his daughter’s own lips that she was perfectly 
well and just as glad as could be that he had come back to 
her. She even said that she was now fond of the ghost 
who was haunting the house, because it had made her 
papa run home to her. 

“And how is the ghost behaving, Miss Rottenmeier?” 
Mr. Sesemann asked, while the corners of his mouth 
twitched with amusement. 

“Ah, Mr. Sesemann,” the housekeeper replied very 
seriously, “it is nothing to smile at. I doubt if Mr. Sese¬ 
mann himself will laugh at it tomorrow. For something is 
going on in this house that points to an awful crime of 
the past which has long been kept secret.” 

“Well, I know nothing about that,” Mr. Sesemann 
said, “but please don’t begin to think badly of my poor 
ancestors. Call Sebastian into the dining room, won’t 
you? I want to say a word to him in private.” 


Mr. Sesemann went across the hall and Sebastian made 
his appearance. His employer knew that Sebastian and 
the housekeeper were not on the best of terms. So he 
was suspicious. 

“Come here, you rogue/’ he said, as he waved to the 
servant to enter, “and see you are quite honest with me. 
Haven’t you yourself been playing the part of ghost a 
little, just to make 'things lively for Miss Rottenmeier, eh?” 

“No, sir, on my honor, I haven’t. Please believe me, 
sir. I haven’t felt at all right about the matter, myself,” 
Sebastian answered with evident honesty. 

“Well, if that’s the way you feel, I’ll have to show you 
and that brave Johann tomorrow how a ghost looks in 
the daytime. Be ashamed of yourself, Sebastian! A 
strong young fellow like you running away from ghosts! 
Now, go straight to my old friend Doctor Classen. Give 
him my greetings and ask him to please come to the 
house at nine o’clock this evening, without fail. Tell him 
I’ve come home from Paris especially to consult him. Say 
I’m so badly off, he’ll have to spend the night with me. 
He must arrange things so that he can. You understand, 
Sebastian?” 

“Of course, sir. Rely upon it, sir.” 

Sebastian departed. Mr. Sesemann went back to his 
little daughter to quiet her fears about the ghost. He 
promised that he would clear the matter up that very day. 

Promptly at nine o’clock, after the children had gone 
to bed and Miss Rottenmeier had retired for the night, 
the doctor arrived. In spite of his gray hairs, he had a 
very young looking face and two eyes with a friendly 


THE SESEMANN HOUSE IS HAUNTED 163 

twinkle in their depths. At first he seemed to be quite 
anxious. But the moment his friend greeted him, he broke 
out into a hearty laugh, clapped the pretended invalid on 
the shoulder, and said— 

“Well, I must say, old man, that for a sick person who 
needs sitting up with, you look fairly healthy!” 

“You just wait, my dear fellow,” Mr. Sesemann 
replied. “The one you’re sitting up for will look worse 
than I do, when we’ve once caught him.” 

“So you have a sick man in the house? And one who 
has to be caught, into the bargain?” 

“Worse than that, Doctor, far worse. We have a 
ghost in the house. We’re haunted.” 

The doctor laughed out loud. 

“A lot of sympathy you have, Doctor!” Mr. Sese¬ 
mann said. “It’s a pity my friend Lady Rottenmeier can¬ 
not be here to enjoy it. She firmly believes that some old 
Sesemann is wandering about because of some secret deed 
of violence.” 

“How did she make the ghost’s acquaintance, do you 
suppose?” the doctor asked, still greatly amused. 

Mr. Sesemann then proceeded to tell his friend about 
the whole affair, how, according to the testimony of all 
the people in the house, the front door swung wide every 
night. He said further that, just to be prepared for any¬ 
thing that might happen, he had had two loaded revolvers 
put in the place where they were to watch. For the whole 
business might, of course, prove to be only a poor joke 
which some one of the servants’ friends was playing in 
order to frighten the people in the house while the master 


164 


HEIDI 


was away. In that case it might be a good idea to scare 
the ghost by shooting off a pistol. Or, on the other hand, 
thieves might be mixed up with the affair, who had been 
first passing themselves off as ghosts, so that later they 
would be safe from anyone’s interfering with them. In 
that case a good weapon would not be out of place. 

While Mr. Sesemann was thus explaining things to 
the doctor, they went downstairs to the same room in 
which Johann and Sebastian had sat to watch. On the 
table lay the two revolvers and in the center stood two 
brightly lighted candelabra, for the master of the house 
did not want to await the coming of the ghost in half 
darkness. 

They closed the door all but the merest crack, because 
too much light must not shine out into the hall or the ghost 
might be frightened away. Then the gentlemen settled 
down comfortably in their arm chairs and fell to talking 
about all sorts of things, now and then taking a sip of the 
wine which Sebastian had brought for their refreshment. 
And so, before they realized how time was passing, the 
clock struck twelve. 

“The ghost knows we are here and probably won’t 
come tonight, after all,” the doctor suggested. 

“You just wait. They say it does not appear until one 
o’clock,” his friend replied. 

They went on with their talking. One o’clock struck. 
There was a deep silence all around them; the sounds of 
the street outside had died away. Suddenly the doctor 
made a warning gesture— 

“Sh-h-h! Sesemann, don’t you hear something?” 


THE SESEMANN HOUSE IS HAUNTED 165 


They both listened intently. 

Softly, and yet quite distinctly in the silence, they heard 
the sound of the bar as it was pushed back. The key was 
turned twice in the lock. The door was being opened. 
Mr. Sesemann reached out for his revolver. 

“You’re not afraid, surely!” said the doctor, rising. 

“You can’t be too careful,” Mr. Sesemann whispered. 
He seized a holder with three candles in his left hand and 
a revolver in his right. Then he followed the doctor out 
of the room into the hall. 

The pale rays of the moon streamed in through the 
widely opened door and lighted up a white figure that was 
standing quite still on the threshold. 

“Who’s there?” bellowed the doctor so loudly that the 
sound rang down the long hall. 

Both of the men started toward the figure, with lights 
and weapons waving. It turned on them and uttered a 
low cry. Heidi! 

There stood Heidi, with bare feet, in her white night¬ 
dress, blinking at the bright flames of the candles and at 
the firearms, shaking and trembling from top to toe like 
a small leaf in the wind. The men looked at her in the 
greatest astonishment. 

“I honestly believe, Sesemann, it’s the little girl who 
carries water to you,” the doctor said. 

“My child, what does this mean?” Mr. Sesemann 
asked after a moment’s pause. “What were you after? 
Why did you come down here?” 

Pale with fright, Heidi stood before him and answered 
weakly, “I don’t know.” 


Then the doctor took a hand in what was going on. 

“Sesemann," he said, “this is a case for me to deal 
with. Go in the other room and sit down for a while in 
the easy chair. First of all, IT 1 take the child back where 
she belongs." 

With these words he laid his revolver down on the 
floor, took the shivering child's hand in his, and went off 
upstairs with her. 

“Just don't you be afraid of anything," he said kindly, 
as they climbed slowly up the steps, “but we must be quiet 
so as not to wake people. Don't you care, nothing bad has 
happened." 

When they were in Heidi's room, the doctor set his 
candlestick on the table, lifted Heidi up, and put her in 
her bed. He covered her carefully and then he sat down 
in a chair by her side and waited until she was a little 
quieter and no longer shook so terribly. He put his hand 
on hers and said— 

“There we are! Everything's all right again. Now 
suppose you tell me where you were trying to go." 

“I wasn't trying to go anywhere, of course," Heidi 
assured him. “And I didn't go down there, either. I 
just found myself down there all of a sudden." 

“Oh, I see. Do you know if you were having a dream 
that made you see and hear things just as plain as day?" 

“Yes, I have a dream every night, and it’s always the 
same one. Then I think I’m back at Grandfather's, for 
I hear the fir trees rustling out of doors. And I say to 
myself, ‘Now the stars are gleaming so brightly up in the 
sky.' Then I run fast and open the door of the hut, and 


THE SESEMANN HOUSE IS HAUNTED 167 


oh, it is so beautiful there! But when I wake up, I’m 
always back in Frankfort.” 

Heidi began to twist about and to swallow down the 
lump that somehow would rise in her throat. 

“Uh-huh! And do you ever feel any pain anywhere? 
In your head or in your back?” 

“Oh, no. There’s just something that presses here all 
the time, sort of like a big stone.” 

“I see. Sort of as if you’d eaten something bad for 
you, and then wish you could get rid of it again.” 

“No, not like that. But it feels so heavy, as if you had 
to cry hard.” 

“Oh, that’s the way it feels! And do you ever go and 
cry hard?” 

“Oh, no, I’m afraid to cry. Miss Rottenmeier said 
I musn’t.” 

“Then you just swallow it down again, like this, don’t 
you? That’s good! Do you like to live here in Frankfort 
very much?” 

“Oh, yes,” was the low answer. But it sounded more 
as if she really meant just the opposite. 

“Hm! And where were you living with your grand¬ 
father ?” 

“Always up on the mountain meadow.” 

“I see. But it isn’t such awfully good fun there, is it? 
Isn’t it sometimes pretty dreary?” 

“Oh my, no! You can’t think how nice it is there.” 

Heidi could not go on. The thought of her dear moun¬ 
tain home, the excitement she had just passed through, 
the weeping she had been holding back so long—these 


168 


HEIDI 


things got too strong for her. The tears began to flow 
from her eyes in a perfect stream, and she broke out into 
loud and violent sobbing. 

The doctor got up from his chair. He laid Heidi’s 
head gently down on its pillow and said— 

“There! Now you can go ahead and cry a little. That 
won’t hurt anybody. Then have a nice fine sleep. To¬ 
morrow everything will be all right.” 

Then the doctor stole from the room. 

When he was down again in the room where they had 
kept watch, he settled into an arm chair across from his 
waiting friend and explained things to him. Mr. Sese- 
mann listened with eager attention. 

“First of all,” he said, “your little girl walks in her 
sleep. Without knowing it, she has opened your front 
door every night like a ghost and scared your servants 
within an inch of their lives. Next, the child is pining 
away with homesickness and has lost flesh until she is 
almost a skeleton. If you’re not careful, she will really be 
one. Something must be done in a hurry. There is only 
one cure for her first trouble and for the bad state of her 
nerves—send the child back to the pure air of her moun¬ 
tain home. There is only one cure for her second trouble, 
and that is to do the very same thing. So you have my 
prescription—the child goes home tomorrow.” 

Mr. Sesemann jumped from his chair. He walked 
up and down the room in the greatest excitement. Finally 
he broke out— 

“Nonsense! Walking in her sleep? Sick? Longing 
to be back home ? Getting to be a skeleton ? And all this 


THE SESEMANN HOUSE IS HAUNTED 169 

in my house! Without anybody’s noticing it or suspecting 
it in the least! The child came to my house happy and 
healthy, Doctor. Do you think I’m going to send her 
back to her grandfather wretched and thin as a rail? No, 
Doctor, that’s too much to expect. I can’t do it and I never 
shall. You take the child in hand, treat her, do anything 
you want, but make her healthy and sound for me again. 
Then I’ll send her home if that’s what she wants. But 
first I must have your help.” 

“Sesemann,” the doctor answered earnestly, “just re¬ 
member what you are doing! Her sickness is not one 
that can be cured with powders and pills. The child is 
not very strong, but if you send her back at once to the 
bracing mountain air she is used to, she probably will get 
entirely well. But even suppose she doesn’t, you don’t 
want to send her home to her grandfather too late to be 
cured, do you? Or perhaps never send her home at all?” 

Mr. Sesemann stood still, terrified. 

“Why, if that’s what you think, Doctor, then there’s 
only one thing to do. And we must get right to work.” 

With these words Mr. Sesemann put his arm in that 
of his friend and walked up and down with him while 
they talked the matter over further. Then the doctor 
started for home, because their talk had lasted a good 
while. The bright morning light streamed in through the 
front door, which this time was opened by the master of 
the house. 


J2 


CHAPTER XIII 

A JOURNEY BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 

Mr. Sesemann climbed the stairs in much excitement 
and went straight toward Lady Rottenmeier’s bedroom. 
His knock on the door of this apartment was so unusually 
loud that the housekeeper started out of her sleep with 
a cry of fear. She heard the master’s voice outside 
saying— 

“Please come to the dining room as fast as you can. 
We have to get things ready at once for a journey.” 

Miss Rottenmeier looked at her clock. It was half¬ 
past four in the morning. She had never in all her life 
got up so early. What on earth could have happened? 
She was so curious and eager that she did everything 
wrong and could hardly get dressed. She kept hunting 
around the room for clothes that she had already put on. 

In the meantime Mr. Sesemann went down the hall 
and rang each one of the bells that was used for calling 
the servants. And in each room that had a bell a terrified 
form sprang out of bed and started to put on his clothes 
wrong side before, because, one and all, they immediately 
thought the ghost had somehow got hold of the master of 
the house, and this was his summons for help. 

So, one by one, they came stealing down, each one, 
if possible, looking worse than the one before him. And 
they drew up in surprise before the master of the house, 
for Mr. Sesemann was walking up and down the room 


170 


BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 171 


looking fresh and cheerful, and not in the least as if he 
had been scared by a ghost. 

Johann was at once sent to harness the horses to the 
carriage, so it might be ready when wanted. Tinette was 
ordered to waken Heidi without delay and to dress her 
for a journey. Sebastian was told to run to the house 
where Heidi’s aunt worked and to bring her back with him. 

Meanwhile Miss Rottenmeier had finally finished dress¬ 
ing. Her clothes were all on straight enough, except for 
her boudoir cap, which was on wrong side before, so that 
from a distance it looked as if her face was on backward. 
Mr. Sesemann realized that her odd appearance was due 
to the fact that she had risen so early, and he therefore 
went straight to the business before them. He explained 
to the surprised lady that she was to get down a trunk at 
once and pack in it all the things that belonged to the Swiss 
child. He spoke of Heidi usually in this way, because her 
name still seemed somewhat strange to him. He also told 
the housekeeper to put in a good many of Clara’s clothes, 
so the child might have a proper outfit to take home with 
her. But everything must be done quickly and without 
waiting to decide one way or the other. 

Miss Rottenmeier stood as if rooted to the spot, staring 
at Mr. Sesemann in great surprise. She had thought he was 
going to tell her some terrible story about the ghost he had 
met the night before, and now that it was bright daylight 
she would have listened gladly. Instead of which, he was 
now giving her these everyday orders. She was not quick 
enough to hide her disappointment. Without a word she 
kept standing there, waiting for what he would say next. 


172 


HEIDI 


But Mr. Sesemann had no intention of clearing up 
matters. He let the lady stand where she was and went to 
his daughter's room. Just as he had feared, the unusual 
stir had awakened Clara, and she was listening to all the 
sounds about her and wondering what was going on. 

Her father sat down beside her bed and told her the 
whole history of the ghost affair. He said that the doctor 
thought Heidi was in very bad shape, and unless some¬ 
thing was done about it she might start wandering in her 
sleep farther and farther away and even climb out on the 
roof, which would be a very dangerous thing. So he had 
made up his mind to send Heidi home on the spot, because 
he was afraid to run such a risk. And Clara must not 
feel bad at losing Heidi, for she could see that it was the 
only thing left for Papa to do. 

Clara was much surprised at this news and at first 
wanted to find some way of keeping Heidi with her, but 
all in vain. Father remained firm in his decision, and yet 
he promised to go to Switzerland with Clara the following 
year if she would be sensible now and not start to fret. 

So Clara gave in cheerfully to what could not be 
helped, but begged as a reward for being good that 
Heidi's trunk might be brought into her room and packed 
there so that she could put in it whatever she took a fancy 
to.^ Her papa granted her this favor very willingly, and, 
besides, he encouraged Clara to fit out Heidi with a fine 
stock of clothes 

It'was then that Aunt Dete arrived and stood in the 
reception hall with great expectations, for it must have 
taken something quite out of the usual run to make her 


BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 173 

coming at such a strange hour necessary. Mr. Sesemann 
went out to see her and told her how things stood with 
Heidi. He asked her if she would take the child home 
with her at once that very day. 

The aunt looked very much disappointed. She had 
expected anything but that. 

She still had a very clear memory of the parting words 
that Nuncle had hurled after her, “Never come into my 
sight again!” And to bring him the child he had not 
wanted, then to take her away again, and then to fetch 
her back—no, that did not seem to be exactly a good 
stroke of business for her. 

So, without thinking the matter over at any length, 
she said that unfortunately it would be impossible for her 
to take such a trip that day. And the day after it would 
be even more out of the question because of all the things 
she simply must do then. And afterward, she doubted 
if she could go any better. 

Mr. Sesemann saw through these excuses and sent 
Aunt Dete away without bothering about her further. He 
then sent for Sebastian and informed him that he must 
get ready to make the trip right away. He would travel 
with the child that day as far as Basel; the next day they 
would reach her home. Then he could start back at once. 
He would have no explanations to offer, for a letter to 
Heidi’s grandfather would make everything clear to him. 

“But now, Sebastian,” Mr. Sesemann said in conclu¬ 
sion, “there is one thing I want you to do especially, and 
you just see that you don’t forget about it! I know the 
hotel in Basel, the name of which I’ve written down on 


174 


HEIDI 


this business card for you. When they see the card, they 
will show you a good room for the child. As to your own 
self, you know what to do. Go first thing into Heidi's 
room and nail every window so tightly shut that it can’t 
be opened except by the greatest force. And after the 
child is once in bed, then go and lock her door on the 
outside, for the youngster wanders around in her sleep 
and might run into any sort of danger, in a strange place, 
if she should, for instance, leave her room and try to open 
the front door. Are you sure you understand?” 

“A-ha! So that’s what it was? That’s the way of 
it?” Sebastian gasped, in the greatest surprise. For he 
had that moment seen a great light about the ghost 
business. 

“Yes, that is exactly what was up. And you are a 
fraidy-cat, and you can tell Johann from me that he is 
another just like you. In fact, you are a silly crowd of 
people.” 

With these words Mr. Sesemann went to his room 
and sat down to write a letter to Meadow Nuncle. 

As for Sebastian, he felt terribly put out. He stood 
in the middle of the room and kept repeating to to himself 
over and over— 

“If I only hadn’t let that coward Johann jerk me back 
into the room where we had been watching! If I had 
only gone after that little white form myself! And I’ll 
bet I would have done it, too!” 

The butler quite convinced himself of his own bravery. 
For at this moment the clear sunshine was brightly lighting 
up every corner of the usually dim apartment. 


BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 175 


Meanwhile Heidi, with never a thought of what was 
going to happen, stood waiting in her best Sunday dress. 
For Tinette had merely shaken her out of her sleep, taken 
her clothes from the closet, and helped her to dress, with¬ 
out saying a word. She never talked with Heidi, whom 
she thought uncitified and beneath her notice. 

With his letter in his hand Mr. Sesemann walked 
into the dining room, where breakfast was awaiting him, 
and called— 

“Where is the child ?” 

Heidi was sent for. When she went up to the master of 
the house to wish him good morning, he looked into her 
face questioningly and asked— 

“Well, what have you to say to all this, my dear? ,, 

Heidi gazed up at him in astonishment. 

“I suppose you don’t know anything about it even 
now,” Mr. Sesemann said with a laugh. “Well, you are 
going home today, and almost right away.” 

“Home?” Heidi repeated after him dully, and grew 
as white as snow. For a moment she could scarcely 
breathe, her heart was beating so violently at the state¬ 
ment. 

“Would you like to hear some more about it?” Mr. 
Sesemann asked, smiling kindly. 

“Oh, yes, indeed I should,” Heidi finally managed to 
gasp, and her cheeks had got dark red. 

“Good! Then you shall hear,” her companion said 
encouragingly. He seated himself and motioned to Heidi 
to do likewise. “But first you must eat a hearty breakfast, 
and then into the carriage and off with you!” 


176 


HEIDI 


Hard as she tried, Heidi could not swallow a mouth¬ 
ful, although she obediently tried to force herself to do it. 
She was so wrought up that she did not know whether she 
was awake or dreaming. She feared she would suddenly 
wake up and find herself standing in her nightgown at the 
entrance door. 

“Sebastian must remember to take plenty of provi¬ 
sions/’ Mr. Sesemann called to the housekeeper, who was 
just coming into the room. “The child can’t eat now, nor 
would one expect her to.” 

Then he turned to Heidi and said kindly— 

“Why don’t you run in to see Clara and wait there 
until the carriage comes?” 

That was just what Heidi wished for, and she ran 
across the hall to Clara. In the middle of her friend’s 
room there was an enormous trunk, the top of which still 
stood wide open. 

“O Heidi, come here,” Clara called to her, “come see 
what I have packed for you. Don’t you like it?” 

And she told off on her fingers a whole list of things^—■ 
dresses and aprons, towels and sewing material. “Look 
here, Heidi!” Clara cried, and held a basket aloft in 
triumph. Heidi peered into it and then had to jump around 
for joy, because in the basket there was a round dozen 
of pretty white rolls, all for Grandmother. 

So happy were the children that they both quite forgot 
that the moment of their parting was at hand. And when 
the call did suddenly come, “The carriage is waiting!” 
there was no time left to be sad in. 

Heidi flew to her room. The pretty book Grandma 


BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 177 

had given her must be lying there still. No one could 
have packed it, for it lay under the pillow, because Heidi 
could not bear to be separated from it day or night. She 
found the book and laid it in the basket on top of the rolls. 
Then she opened her bureau to see if there was any other 
nice thing that had also not been packed. And there, sure 
enough, lay the old red neckerchief. Miss Rottenmeier 
had thought it too poor a thing to be worth packing. Heidi 
wrapped it around some other object and put it on the 
very top of the basket, so that the red package became 
very noticeable. Then she set her fine new hat on her 
head and left the room. 

The children had to say good-by quickly, for Mr. 
Sesemann was waiting to take Heidi down to the carriage. 
Miss Rottenmeier stood at the head of the stairs to bid 
Heidi farewell. As. she caught sight of the strange little 
red bundle, she snatched it from the basket and threw it to 
the floor. 

“No, Adelheid," she said reprovingly, “you can't leave 
this house looking like that. You don't need to take any 
such stuff with you, anyway. And now good-by!" 

After this reproof Heidi did not dare pick her bundle 
up again, but she looked at the master of the house with 
an imploring glance, as if she were being robbed of her 
greatest treasure. 

“Oh, no, no," Mr. Sesemann said in a very decided 
tone of voice. “Heidi is going to take home with her 
just whatever she wants to. Even if it turns out to 
be kittens or turtles, we won't bother about it, Miss 
Rottenmeier." 


i 7 8 


HEIDI 


Heidi quickly picked her bundle up from the floor, and 
her eyes shone with thankfulness and joy. 

When she had got to the carriage, Mr. Sesemann 
took her hand in his and told her very nicely she must not 
forget him and his daughter Clara. He gave her his best 
wishes for a pleasant journey, and in her turn Heidi 
thanked him with her whole heart for the kindness he had 
shown her. Her final message was— 

“And I leave a thousand greetings for the doctor, and 
many, many thanks.” 

For she had not forgotten that he had told her the 
night before, “Tomorrow everything’s going to be all 
right.” Now it had all come true, and Heidi thought he 
had brought it about. 

Then the child was lifted into the carriage, and the 
basket and the bag of provisions and Sebastian followed. 
Mr. Sesemann again called to her, “Pleasant journey!” 
and the carriage rolled away. 

Soon afterward Heidi was sitting in the train and 
holding the basket firmly in her lap. She would not let 
it out of her hands for a single minute, because Grand¬ 
mother’s precious rolls were inside it. She had to guard 
them carefully and take a look at them from time to time, 
just for fun. 

For several hours Heidi sat as still as a mouse. She 
was just beginning to understand that she was really 
on her way home to Grandfather on the mountain meadow, 
to Grandmother, and to Goat Peter. Happy scenes from 
the past came to her mind, one after the other, and she 
dreamed of all the things she was again going to see and 


BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 179 


wondered how everything would look. New thoughts 
flooded in upon her, and suddenly she grew a little afraid. 

“Sebastian, didn't Grandmother on the mountain 
meadow really die, after all?" she asked. 

“Oh, no," he said, consolingly, “we’ll hope she didn’t. 
She will be alive all right." 

Then Heidi again was buried in her thoughts. But 
every once in a while she would take a peek into the 
basket, for her dearest wish in life had now come to be 
to lay all the rolls on Grandmother’s table. After some 
time she asked again— 

“Sebastian, don’t you suppose that we can be certain 
sure that Grandmother’s still alive?" 

“Why, of course we can!" her companion answered, 
half asleep. “She’s alive, fast enough. Don’t see why 
she shouldn’t be, do you?" 

After awhile Heidi’s eyes closed, too. Because of the 
restless night and her early rising, she was so dead with 
sleep that she did not wake up until Sebastian gave her 
arm a good shaking and called out to her— 

“Wake up in a hurry, Heidi! Get out right away, 
we’ve come to Basel!" 

Next morning their long journey continued for many 
hours. In the child’s lap again rested the basket, which 
she would on no condition let Sebastian take care of. But 
today she did not speak a single word, because each new 
hour that came made her eagerness greater. She could 
hardly wait. And then suddenly, just when she least 
expected it, the loud call was heard— 

“All out for Mayenfeldl" 


i8o 


HEIDI 


Heidi jumped up from her seat, and so did Sebastian, 
who was as surprised as she was. In a moment they 
found themselves out on the platform with the trunk, 
and the train was whistling farther on up in the valley. 

Sebastian cast a longing look after the departing train, 
for he much preferred traveling so safely and easily to 
starting out on a foot tour which would end in a stiff bit 
of mountain climbing. Besides, he feared that the climb 
would be hard and dangerous in this land where every¬ 
thing seemed to him to be still in a half-wild condition. 
So he looked around for someone who would show him the 
safest way to The Hamlet. 

Not far from the railway station a small rack wagon 
was standing, with a lean horse attached to it. A broad- 
shouldered man was occupied in loading it with several 
large sacks of flour that had been brought up by the train. 
Sebastian hailed him and asked which was the safest way 
to Dorfli. 

“All roads are safe hereabouts,” was the short answer. 

But Sebastian persisted in asking him the best way to 
take, so as not to fall over the cliffs, and how one could have 
a trunk sent up to this particular place called The Hamlet. 
The man looked at the trunk and measured its weight with 
his eyes. Then he said that if it was not too heavy 'he 
himself could take it on his wagon, as he was bound for 
Dorfli. After some little further talk the two men at 
last agreed that the child and the trunk should be taken 
along in the rack wagon, and then Heidi could be sent 
from Dorfli up to the mountain meadow with some one 
later in the evening. 


BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 181 


“I can go by myself. I know the way from The Hamlet 
up to the mountain meadow,” Heidi said at this point, for 
she had been listening eagerly while the two men bar¬ 
gained. 

A heavy load was taken from Sebastian’s heart when 
he saw himself freed from the necessity of clambering up 
the mountain. He beckoned to Heidi secretly to come to 
one side with him, and he handed her a thick round bundle 
and a letter for her grandfather. The round bundle, he 
explained, was a gift from Mr. Sesemann. She must hide 
it in the bottom of the basket away down under the bread 
rolls. And she must take good care to see it was not lost, 
or Mr. Sesemann would be awfully angry and would never 
get over it his whole life long. Little Mamsell would do 
well to remember this. 

“Oh, I won’t lose it,” Heidi said. And she placed the 
thick roll and the letter in the lower part of the basket. 

The trunk was then set on the wagon, and Sebastian 
lifted the child and her precious burden up to the high seat 
beside the driver. The servant shook hands with her, said 
good-by, and once more urged her, with all sorts of signs, 
to keep careful watch of the contents of her basket. For 
the driver was close by them, and Sebastian was by no 
means easy in his mind, because he knew that he himself 
should have gone with Heidi to the end of her journey. At 
last the driver swung himself up on the seat next to Heidi, 
and the wagon rolled off toward the mountains, while 
Sebastian, happy to escape the dreaded climb, sat down 
beside the little railway station to wait for the return 
train. 


HEIDI 


182 


The man on the wagon was the baker of Dorfli, who 
was driving home with his sacks of flour. He had never 
seen Heidi before, but, like everyone else in The Hamlet, 
he knew about the child that had been brought to Meadow 
Nuncle. What is more, he had known Heidi's father and 
mother, and so of course he guessed at once that she was 
the girl people talked about so much. He could not help 
being surprised that the child was coming back home so 
soon, and while they were driving along he began to talk 
with Heidi— 

“I suppose you must be the child who lived up at 
Meadow Nuncle’s, at your grandfather's." 

“Yes.” 

“Did they treat you so badly in Frankfort that you 
came home before you expected to ? And all that distance!'' 

“No, I got along fine. Nobody could be treated better 
than I was in Frankfort.” 

“Why are you running right home, then ?” 

“Just because Mr. Sesemann said I could, or I shouldn’t 
have gone away at all.” 

“Bah! Why didn’t you want to stay down there any¬ 
way, even if they did let you go?” 

“Because I’d a thousand times rather go home to 
Grandfather up on the mountain meadow than do anything 
else in the world.” 

“I guess you’ll think differently when you’re once up 
there again,” the baker said with a grunt. And he said 
to himself, “But I wonder if she knows how bad it is.” 

Then he began to whistle a tune and had nothing more 
to say. 


BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 183 

Heidi looked around her, and she was so excited that 
she fairly trembled. She recognized the trees by the road¬ 
side, and up above loomed the sharp peaks of the high 
Falkniss Mountain, looking down at her in greeting like 
good old friends. Heidi waved her hand to them joyously. 
Every step the horse took, Heidi’s excitement grew more 
intense, and she almost thought she would have to jump 
down from the wagon and run with might and main until 
she reached the very top of Falkniss. 

But she sat still and made no move, although her brain 
whirled on and on until she was dizzy. The clock struck 
five just as they drove into The Hamlet. In no time at all 
a troop of women and children crowded around the wagon, 
and a couple of men from neighboring houses came out 
to join the company. For the sight of a child and a trunk 
on the baker’s wagon had attracted the attention of all the 
people, and everyone wanted to know where they had come 
from, where they were going, and to whom they belonged. 

Hardly had the baker lifted Heidi to the ground when 
she said to him quickly— 

'Thank vou. Grandfather will be down for the trunk 
soon.” 

And she would have run away. But she was held in 
on every side by the crowd. There was a chorus of voices, 
all talking at once, and each asking a different question. 
Heidi forced her way through the throng with such a look 
of anxiety on her face that they made room for her to 
pass. And they said to each other— 

"You see how frightened she is, don’t you? Well, she 
has good reason to be.” 


184 


HEIDI 


Then they started to tell one another how, during the 
past year, Meadow Nuncle had been getting worse than 
ever. He would no longer exchange a word with anyone, 
and if you happened to get in his way, he glared at you 
as if he wanted to kill you. And if the child only had the 
sense that she was born with, she wouldn’t be running up 
there to the old dragon’s nest. 

But at last the baker managed to get a word in edge¬ 
wise. He said he knew more about it than all the rest of 
them put together. And then, with a great air of secrecy, 
he told how a gentleman had brought the child as far as 
Mayenfeld. There he had said good-by to the girl in the 
friendliest sort of way. Then, without trying to beat 
down the price the baker asked for her fare, the gentleman 
had paid it, and had added a good tip, too. And besides, 
he knew for sure that the child had been well cared for in 
Frankfort and herself had wanted to come back to her 
grandfather. 

The baker’s news caused much amazement, and his 
story was spread like lightning through Dorfli. And that 
evening there was not a cottage in all The Hamlet where 
they did not gossip about the child who wanted to give up 
a life of ease and plenty to return to her grandfather. 

Heidi ran up the mountain from The Hamlet as fast 
as ever she could, stopping a moment every now and then 
to catch her breath. The basket on her arm was fairly 
heavy for her to carry, and besides, the higher she went, 
the steeper grew the trail. There was room for but a 
single thought in Heidi’s heart— 

“Will Grandmother still be sitting at her place by the 



Quicker and quicker went Heidi's little feet 


































BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 185 

spinning wheel in the corner? Did she die while I was 
gone so long?” 

Now Heidi caught sight of the hut up in the hollow 
by the mountain meadow, and her heart began to pound. 
She ran still faster, and her heart began to beat more 
loudly. At last she was there! She could scarcely open 
the door, she was trembling so, but finally she managed 
to lift the latch. She sprang into the middle of the little 
living room and stood there, all out of breath and unable 
to utter a sound. 

“Heavens above!” a voice cried from the corner. 
“That’s the way our Heidi used to run in. Oh, if she 
could only be with me once more before I die! Who 
is it?” 

“Here I am, Grandmother. It's really me,” Heidi 
called. 

She rushed over to the old lady in the corner and 
plumped down on her knees beside her. She seized Grand¬ 
mother's arm and her hands, pressed tightly against her, 
and was speechless, she was so happy. At first Grand¬ 
mother herself was so surprised that she also could find 
nothing to say, but then she began to stroke Heidi's curly 
hair and to say over and over again— 

“Yes, yes, that's her hair, and that's her voice. I 
thank Thee, dear God, that Thou hast let me live to see 
this day!” 

And two great tears of joy fell from the old blind eyes 
down on Heidi's hand. 

“Is it really you, dear? Have you come back to me at 
last?" 


13 


186 


HEIDI 


“Oh, surely it’s me Grandmother,” Heidi said gently. 
“But don’t you cry, for I’m back here to stay and am 
coming to see you every day and will never leave you 
again. And you won’t need to eat hard bread for many a 
day, either. See, Grandmother, what I brought you!” 

And Heidi now drew one roll after another out of her 
basket until she had heaped all twelve of them on Grand¬ 
mother’s lap. 

“O my dear child, what is this blessed gift you have 
brought me?” the old lady cried in her astonishment, for 
it seemed as if the supply of rolls would never end, they 
followed one another so endlessly. “But the greatest 
blessing of all is just you, child!” 

Then she ran her fingers again through Heidi’s curls 
and stroked the hot cheeks and said— 

“Say just one more word, dear. Anything, so I can 
hear the sound of your voice.” 

Then it was that Heidi told Grandmother how fearfully 
afraid she had been that she might die when her little 
child was far away. Then she could not have brought her 
the promised white rolls and could never have come to 
see her again. 

Peter’s mother came in while they were talking to¬ 
gether. She stopped short and stared, as if she could not 
trust her eyes. Then she cried— 

“As I live, it’s Heidi! But how can that ever be?” 

Heidi got up from her knees and shook hands with 
her, and Brigitte could not get over her surprise at Heidi’s 
changed appearance. She walked around the child once 
or twice and said— 


BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 187 

“Grandmother, if you could only see what a lovely 
dress the child has on and how fine she looks, you would 
hardly recognize her. And the little hat trimmed with 
feathers there on the table, is that yours, too? Do put it 
on, so I can see if it’s becoming.” 

“No, I don't want to,” said Heidi firmly. “You can 
have it if you’ll take it. I don’t need it any longer. I have 
another one I like better.” 

Then Heidi unwrapped her small red bundle and took 
out her old hat, which had become still more cracked during 
her journey from Frankfort than it was before. But that 
did not bother Heidi any. For she had never forgotten how, 
when she was leaving Grandfather, he had shouted after 
her that he didn’t ever want to see her in a hat trimmed 
with feathers. And that was the reason Heidi had saved 
her old hat so carefully, because she was always dreaming 
of the time when she would be going back to him. 

Brigitte told her not to be so silly. If she did not want 
to wear the hat, it was such a splendid one that she could 
sell it perhaps to the daughter of the Dorfli school teacher.. 
She could get a lot of money for it. 

But Heidi stuck stubbornly to her decision. When 
Brigitte was not looking, she put the hat quietly in the 
corner behind Grandmother, where it was out of sight. 
Then she slipped quickly out of her pretty dress, and she 
wound the red neckerchief over her underwaist, in which 
she was now standing with bare arms. She seized Grand¬ 
mother’s hand and said— 

“Now I must run home to Grandfather, but I’ll come to 
see you again tomorrow. Good night, Grandmother!” 


HEIDI 


188 


“Yes, do come again, Heidi, by all means! Until to¬ 
morrow, then!” said the grandmother. And she squeezed 
the child’s hand in both of hers and could hardly let her go. 

“But why did you take off your pretty dress ?” Brigitte 
asked. 

“Because I’d rather go to Grandfather this way, or 
perhaps he would not know me. You hardly did.” 

Brigitte followed Heidi out of the door and said a few 
words secretly to her— 

“You could have kept on the dress, and he would have 
known you fast enough. But in other ways you must be 
careful, for Peterli says Meadow Nuncle is always in a 
bad temper now and won’t say a word to anyone.” 

Heidi said good night and climbed up the mountain 
slope, carrying her basket on her arm. The evening sun 
shone all round about on the green mountain pasture, and 
at this moment the vast snow field of Casaplana came into 
view and shone afar. 

Every other step or so Heidi had to stand still and look 
over her shoulder, for the high mountains were behind 
her as she struggled on up the trail. Suddenly a red 
glow shone on the grass at her feet. She turned around, 
and oh! she had forgotten that the glory of the world was 
so great. It had not been like this even in all her dreams. 
The horned cliffs of Falkniss Mountain flamed up to the 
sky, the broad snow field was all alight, pink clouds were 
moving slowly across a blue heaven. The grass about 
her on the meadow was melted gold, the light twinkled and 
shone from the crags, and below her the valley swam in 
a sea of golden mist. 


BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 189 


Heidi stood in the midst of this splendor, and bright 
tears of joy streamed down her cheeks. She folded her 
hands and gazed up at the sky above her and gave thanks 
aloud to dear God that He had brought her back home 
again. She thanked Him that all His works were so 
beautiful, much more beautiful than she had thought, and 
that they were once more hers to enjoy. And Heidi found 
herself so fortunate and so rich in this great glory that was 
all around her, she could hardly find the right words with 
which to thank her God. 

Heidi could not tear herself away from the spot until 
the light around her began to pale. But then she ran up 
the mountain so fast that it was not long before she saw 
ahead of her the tops of the fir trees above the roof. A 
moment later the roof itself hove into sight, and then the 
cottage, and finally the figure of Grandfather as he sat 
on the bench by the hut and smoked his pipe. And above 
the whole scene the tops of the old fir trees rocked and 
rustled in the evening breeze. 

Then Heidi ran all the faster. And before Meadow 
Nuncle could see what was coming, the child flew straight 
up to him, threw down her basket, and clasped her arms 
tightly about him. She was so excited at seeing him again 
that she kept repeating the one word over and over— 

“Grandfather, Grandfather, Grandfather!” 

Nor did the old gentleman have anything to say. His 
eyes grew wet for the first time in many years, and he 
had to brush his hand across them. Then he loosened 
Heidi’s arms from his neck, set the child upon his knees, 
and studied her closely for a moment. 


“So you’ve come home again, Heidi,” he said, after a 
pause. “How does that happen? You don’t look 
especially proud and haughty. Did they send you away ?” 

“Oh, no, Grandfather,” Heidi assured him, eagerly, 
“you musn’t think that. They were all so good to me— 
Clara, and Grandmama, and Mr. Sesemann. But you see, 
Grandfather, I just couldn’t stand it any longer not to 
come back to see you. But I never said anything about it, 
of course, for that would have been naughty. And then 
one morning, all of a sudden, Mr. Sesemann sent for me 
very early, but I do really believe the doctor made him do 
it—but I suppose that is all written down in the letter—” 

Heidi wriggled down from Grandfather’s knees, took 
her letter and the rolled package from her basket, and 
handed him both of them. 

“This belongs to you,” the old gentleman said, and 
laid the roll of money down beside her on the bench. Then 
he took the letter and read it through. Without a word he 
thrust it into his pocket. 

“Do you think you could still drink a little milk with 
me, Heidi?” he then asked, taking the child’s hand to go 
into the hut with her. “But bring your money along. 
You can buy yourself a whole bed with that, and clothes 
enough to last you for several years.” 

“I don’t need the money for anything, Grandfather,” 
Heidi said. “I have a good bed already, and Clara packed 
so many clothes for me, I surely won’t need any more, 
ever.” 

“Take it, just the same. And put it in your closet, for 
the time will come when you need it.” 


BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 191 

Heidi obeyed him and hopped along after him into 
the cottage. She was overjoyed to see everything again, 
she ran into the corners, she climbed up the ladder. But 
in <the loft she stopped suddenly and called down to him— 

“O Grandfather, I’ve lost my bed!” 

“It will be back again soon,” he called to her from 
below. “We didn’t know you were coming home. Here’s 
your milk now.” 

Heidi climbed down and sat in her old place on the high 
stool. She seized her bowl and drank the milk so eagerly 
that you would think she had never had anything so 
delicious in all her life. When she finally set down her 
bowl with a deep breath, she said— 

“Nothing in the world is half so good as our milk, 
Grandfather!” 

At that moment a shrill whistle sounded outside. Heidi 
shot out of the door like a flash of light. 

There came the whole troop of goats, skipping, danc¬ 
ing, and jumping down from above, and Peter himself in 
the midst of them. When he saw Heidi he stood stock still, 
as if he had suddenly taken root in the ground, and stared 
at her in silence. 

“Good evening, Peter,” Heidi called, and fairly rushed 
in among the goats. “O Barli dear, and Schwanli, do you 
still remember me?” 

And it truly seemed as if the goats knew her voice, for 
they rubbed their heads against the child and began to 
bleat aloud for joy. Heidi called them all by name, one 
after the other, and they ran around in wild confusion 
and crowded upon her. The impatient Goldfinch sprang 


192 


HEIDI 


over the backs of two other goats to reach her without 
delay. And even Snowhopper, with an unexpected lower¬ 
ing of his head, butted aside Big Turk, who in great sur¬ 
prise at such treatment could only raise his bearded head 
high into the air to show who he was. 

Heidi was almost beside herself with joy to have her 
old companions back. She hugged delicate little Schnee- 
hoppli again and again, stroked Distelfink, and was pushed 
and thrust one way and another by the affectionate goats, 
until she finally came up to Peter, who had not moved from 
where he stood. 

“Come down here, Peter, and wish me good evening,” 
Heidi now called to him. 

“So you’ve come back again!” he exclaimed, in much 
surprise. And then he came forward and took Heidi’s 
hand, which she had been holding out to him this long 
time, and he asked, as he always did when they were coming 
home in the evening— 

“You’re going to be with me tomorrow?” 

“No, not tomorrow, but the next day, perhaps. To¬ 
morrow I have to go to Grandmother’s.” 

“It’s fine to have you back again,” Peter said, and his 
face got all twisted up in a grin of huge delight. Then he 
prepared to start on with the goats. 

But never before had he had such trouble with them. 
First it was all he could do, coaxing and threatening, to 
gather the goats around him. And then, when Heidi had 
started off, with one arm about Schwanli’s neck and the 
other about Barli’s, the whole herd suddenly wheeled and 
ran after the three. Heidi had to take her two goats into 


BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 193 

the shed and close the door, or Peter never would have 
managed to get his flock headed down the mountain. 

When the child came back into the cottage, she found 
her bed already made up. It was high and sweet¬ 
smelling, for the hay had been freshly brought in and 
Grandfather had spread the clean linen sheets over it very 
carefully. 

Heidi lay down on it with real pleasure and had the 
best night’s sleep that she had had for a whole year. Dur¬ 
ing the night Grandfather must have got up at least ten 
times to climb into the loft, and to listen carefully to Heidi’s 
breathing, so he might be sure she was having a good rest. 
He examined the window where the moon used to shine in 
on Heidi’s couch, to see if the hay was still where he had 
stuffed it, because from now on he intended to keep the 
moonlight out, so as not to allow it to waken the child with 
its brightness. 

Heidi slept on without waking, and she no longer 
wandered about in her sleep. Her great longing for home 
had been stilled. She had again seen all the mountains 
and cliffs caught in the evening glow. She had once more 
listened to the deep roaring of the fir trees and was at home 
on the mountain meadow. 


CHAPTER XIV 

SUNDAY, WHEN THE CHURCH BELLS RING 

Heidi stood beneath the swaying boughs of the fir 
trees and waited for her grandfather, who was going 
along to get the trunk up from The Hamlet while she made 
a call on Grandmother. The child was all eagerness to 
see Grandmother again and to find out how the rolls had 
tasted. And yet the time did not seem long to her, for she 
could not tire of listening to the whispering voices of 
the firs, of drinking in the sweet odors and the brightness 
of the green meadows and their golden flowers. 

Grandfather came out of the hut at last, took a long 
look at the scene around him, and said contentedly— 

“Well, I guess we can go now.” 

Today was Saturday, the time of all the week when it 
was Meadow Nuncle’s custom to clean the hut and put 
things to rights in the shed and all around. He had taken 
the morning to do this, so he could make the trip with Heidi 
in the afternoon. That is why everything looked so neat. 
They parted at the door of Goat Peter’s hut, and Heidi 
ran inside. The grandmother had already heard her 
coming, and she called out to her fondly— 

“Are yop there, dear? Have you come to us again?” 

Then she grasped Heidi’s hand and squeezed it a little, 
for she was still afraid the child might be taken away from 
her again. And then Grandmother had to tell how the 
rolls had tasted. And she said that they had strengthened 


194 


WHEN THE CHURCH BELLS RING 195 

her so that she was much better that day than she 
had been for a long time. Peter’s mother added, however, 
that the old lady was much worried lest the rolls would 
disappear too soon, and so she could be persuaded to eat 
only one of them the day before and that day together. 
The mother thought she would gain in strength faster if 
she would agree to eat one roll a day for a whole week at 
a stretch. 

Heidi listened carefully to what Brigitte said and she 
was thoughtful for a little while. But then she had found 
a way out of the difficulty. 

“I know what we’ll do, Grandmother,” she said with 
great eagerness. “I’ll write a letter to Clara, and she will 
be sure to send me as many rolls again, or perhaps even 
twice as many, for I had a great pile of such rolls hidden 
in my closet. And when they took them away from me, 
Clara said she’d give me just as many more. And she’ll do 
what she said she would.” 

“Oh, dear me,” Brigitte said, “that is a fine idea! But 
they will be hard before they get here, don’t you think? 
If we only had a spare penny now and then, we could get 
the rolls from the baker down in Dorfli. He has them for 
sale, but it’s all I can do to pay for the black bread we eat.” 

It was then that a bright ray of joy came into Heidi’s 
face. 

“Oh, I’ve got a great lot of money, Grandmother,” she 
shouted gaily, and she couldn’t stand still, she was so 
happy. “Now I know what I’ll do with it. Every single 
day, you’re going to have a fresh roll, and two on Sunday. 
Peter can fetch them up from The Hamlet.” 


196 


HEIDI 


“Oh, no, my dear,” the grandmother said, “that would 
never do. The money was not given you for any such 
purpose. You must hand it to your grandfather. He’ll 
tell you how to spend it.” 

But Heidi would not have her nice plan spoiled. She 
crowed and danced around the room and kept calling— 

“Now Grandmother’s going to eat a roll every day and 
grow strong! And oh, Grandmother,” she cried out again 
in her delight, “when you get healthy, things will be bright 
for you again, surely! I think they’re dark only because 
you’re so weak.” 

The grandmother kept silence, because she did not 
wish to spoil the child’s happiness. While she was gaily 
dancing around, Heidi caught sight of Grandmother’s old 
hymn book, and she was suddenly struck with a bright 
idea. 

“Grandmother, do you know I can read nicely now? 
Shan’t I just read you a song out of your old book?” 

“Do!” said the grandmother, in pleased surprise. “So 
you really can do that, can you?” 

Heidi had climbed up on a chair and taken down the 
book. It was covered with thick dust, for it had not been 
touched for a long time. She wiped it clean, sat down with 
i't on the stool beside Grandmother, and asked what she 
should read first. 

“Whatever you like best, dear,” said the old lady very 
eagerly, pushing the spinning wheel away from her. 

Heidi turned over the leaves, reading here a line and 
there a line. “Oh, here’s something about the sun! I’ll 
read that, Grandmother.” 


WHEN THE CHURCH BELLS RING 197 


And Heidi began in a low voice to spell out the words 
of the beautiful comforting hymn, and as she read she 
grew more eager and her voice more full and warm: 

Sun golden gleaming, 

Joyously beaming, 

Brings to our regions 
Thy countless legions 
Of spirit-quickening, glorious rays! 

For long I stumbled, 

Bowed down and humbled;— 

But now arisen, 

With swift decision 
Turn I to heaven my enraptured gaze. 

I view, impassioned, 

What God has fashioned 
To tell the story 
Of His great glory— 

Infinite, endless the tale of His might! 

All pious creatures 
See there His features, 

When, happy-hearted, 

They have departed 

From earth to bask in His heavenly light. 

Worldly things sever, 

God stays forever; 

There is no changing 
Of His arranging;— 

His word and will are eternal law. 

His grace and favor 
Swerve not, nor waver; 


198 


HEIDI 


They cure each breaking 
Heart of its aching— 

Filling our souls with a holy awe. 

Today* we languish 
In grief and anguish, 

But all our sorrow 
Shall fade tomorrow; — 

After the storm the sun shines bright. 

Sweet peace and pleasure, 

Boundless in measure, 

We know are given 
In the garden of heaven; — 

Thither my thoughts turn day and night. 

When she had finished, Grandmother sat quietly with 
folded hands, on her face a look of joy such as Heidi had 
never seen there before, even if the tears were streaming 
down the aged cheeks. 

“O Heidi,” she said at last, happily, “that hymn makes 
the world light for me, with its lines about the sun that 
shines in the garden of heaven. It makes my soul light 
indeed. Oh, how much good you have done me, dear!” 

Grandmother repeated the joyful words over and over. 
Heidi glowed with happiness and kept her eyes fixed on the 
old lady’s face, for she had never seen her look so before. 
Grandmother’s face no longer had its troubled look, but 
glanced up at her so brightly that it seemed as if she was 
already seeing with the glad eyes of faith the fair garden 
of heaven of which the hymn sang. 

Then someone knocked at the window, and Heidi saw 
her grandfather beckoning to her to go home with him. 
She went quickly, but not until she had given Grandmother 


WHEN THE CHURCH BELLS RING 199 

her promise to come again next day. Even if she went up 
to the pasture with Peter, she said that she would be back 
for the afternoon. It had become the dearest joy that 
Heidi knew to make the world bright and gay for Grand¬ 
mother, a joy much greater, even, than to be in the sunlit 
pasture with her flowers and her goats. 

Brigitte ran out of the door after Heidi, carrying the 
dress and hat which had been left behind. And Heidi took 
the dress to carry off with her, for she was now sure that 
Grandfather would know her in the new costume. But 
the hat she stubbornly refused to accept. She told Brigitte 
to keep it for herself, she never wanted to put it on her 
head again. 

The child was so full of what had recently happened 
to her that right away she had to tell Grandfather every¬ 
thing that was in her mind. She said they could get the 
white rolls for Grandmother down in The Hamlet if they 
had money enough. She said things had suddenly grown 
bright and happy for Grandmother. And when Heidi 
had told her whole story down to the end, she went back 
to the beginning and said to him hopefully— 

“Listen, Grandfather! Even if Grandmother doesn’t 
want me to, you’ll give me all the money in the roll, won’t 
you, so I can hand Peter a penny every day for a roll, and 
two on Sundays ?” 

“But how about the new bed, Heidi?” Grandfather 
said. “A real bed would be a fine thing for you, and there’d 
be enough money left to buy lots of rolls with.” 

Heidi gave her grandfather no peace, however. She 
proved to him that she slept better on her couch of straw 


200 


HEIDI 


than she had ever done in her feather bed in Frankfort. 
And she kept pleading with him so earnestly and constantly 
that he finally said— 

“It's your money, Heidi, to do with as you please. You 
can get bread for Grandmother with it for many a year.” 

Heidi called out happily— 

“Hurrah! Now Grandmother will never have to eat 
any more hard black bread, and oh, Grandfather, things 
were never so splendid before in all our lives!” 

She seized the old man’s hand and jumped up and 
down as happy and free as the birds in the sky. Then all 
at once she grew serious again and said— 

“Oh, suppose the dear God had done right on the spot 
what I begged Him so hard to do, then things wouldn’t have 
turned out as they have. I should have come home with 
only a few rolls for Grandmother and could not have read 
aloud to her, which does her so much good. But dear 
God had already planned it out so much better than I 
thought. Grandmama said He would, and it has all come 
true. My, but I am glad the dear God did not give in to 
me when I prayed and made such a fuss! From now on 
I’ll pray as Grandmama told me to, and be grateful to the 
dear God, even when He doesn’t do what I ask. For 
I can always think, Tt is just as it was in Frankfort. 
Dear God is planning something much better for me.’ 
And now we’ll pray every day, won’t we Grandfather? 
And we’ll never forget Him, so the dear God will never 
forget us.” 

“But suppose one did not pray, what then?” muttered 
Grandfather. 









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Grandmother sat with folded hands while Heidi read 


































































































































































































































































WHEN THE CHURCH BELLS RING 201 


“Why, then, he would not succeed, for the dear God 
would forget him, too, and leave him all alone. And when 
he got into trouble and complained, then nobody would 
pity him at all. They would say, ‘He ran away from the 
dear God first, so now God who could help him doesn’t 
pay any attention to him, either.’ ” 

“How true that is, Heidi! But who taught you that ?” 

“Grandmama told me. She explained it all to me.” 

The old gentleman walked up and down awhile in 
silence. Then, following his own thought, he said to him¬ 
self— 

“Still, suppose that is the way of it. It’s too late to 
go back afterward, and whom God has forgotten, He has 
forgotten.” 

“Oh, no, Grandfather, it’s never too late. Grandmama 
told me about that, too. Besides, the beautiful story in 
my book says the same thing, but I never read that one to 
you. We’ll be home in a minute now, and then you’ll just 
see how lovely the story is.” 

In her mad hurry to be home Heidi hurried faster and 
faster during the last of their climb. And scarcely had 
they reached the top, when the child let go of Grandfather’s 
hand and flew into the cottage. The old gentleman took 
from his shoulders the basket, into which he had put half 
of the things that were in Heidi’s trunk, for the whole 
trunk was too heavy for him to carry up all at once. He 
sat down on the bench and gave himself up to his thoughts. 
Heidi came running to him with the book under her arm. 

“Oh, that’s fine, Grandfather, that you’re sitting right 
there!” 


14 


202 


HEIDI 


With a bound Heidi was at his side and had found 
her place in the book. She had read the story through so 
often that the book always opened at this page. And Heidi, 
with emotion, went on to read the saddest, gladdest story 
in all the world, the tale of the Prodigal Son. 

“Isn’t that a beautiful story, though?” Heidi asked, 
as she finished it and closed her book. But Grandfather 
made no reply to the question. She had expected him to be 
surprised and glad, instead of which he sat in silence and 
seemed not to hear her. 

“Yes, Heidi, the story is indeed beautiful,” Grand¬ 
father said, after a long pause. But his face was so 
solemn that Heidi grew very quiet and opened her book 
to look at its pictures. Gently she pushed the book in front 
of Grandfather and said— 

“See how happy he is!” 

Heidi pointed with her finger to the picture of the 
Prodigal’s return home, where he is standing in fresh 
garments beside his father and once more belongs to him 
as his son.— 

A few hours later, when Heidi had long been fast 
asleep, Grandfather climbed up the small ladder. He put 
his lantern down beside the child’s bed so that its rays 
fell on her sleeping form. She lay before him with her 
hands clasped, for she had not forgotten to pray. On her 
little pink face there was a look of peacefulness and happy 
trust which gave its own message to Grandfather. He 
stood there a long time without moving, with his eyes fixed 
on the sleeping child. Then he too clasped his hands 
together and, with bowed head, he whispered— 


WHEN THE CHURCH BELLS RING 203 

“Father, I have sinned against heaven and in Thy sight 
and am no more worthy to be called Thy son!” And two 
great tears ran down the old man’s cheeks.— 

Not many hours after this scene, in the early hour of 
dawn, Meadow Nuncle was standing in front of his hut 
and looking around him with shining eyes. The Sabbath 
light glistened and beamed above mountain and valley. 
Single notes from the early chiming of church bells stole 
up from the lands far below, and high above in the pine 
trees the birds were singing their morning songs. 

Then Grandfather stepped back into the hut. 

“Come, Heidi!” he called up to the loft. “Here’s the 
sun. Put on a pretty dress, and we’ll go to church to¬ 
gether.” 

It did not take Heidi long to dress. There was a new 
note in Grandfather’s voice which made her eager to 
obey. 

In a short time she came hurrying down with her dainty 
Frankfort dress on, but she stopped in front of Grand¬ 
father and gazed at him unbelievingly. 

“Why, I never saw you look that way,” she broke out 
at last. “That’s the first time you’ve worn your coat with 
the silver buttons. Oh, you’re so handsome in your fine 
Sunday clothes!” 

The old gentleman looked down at the child with an 
amused smile and said— 

“So are you, my dear. And now, let’s start.” 

He took Heidi’s hand in his, and together they wan¬ 
dered down the mountain path. They could now hear the 
clear church bells ringing on all sides of them, their tones 


204 


HEIDI 


growing deeper and sweeter the nearer they drew to them. 
Heidi listened blissfully and said— 

“Do you hear them, Grandfather? It’s like some big 
festival.” 

Down below in Dorfli all the people were already in 
church and were just beginning to sing a hymn as Grand¬ 
father and Heidi came in and sat down far back in the 
last pew. But right in the midst of the singing the person 
who sat next to them nudged his neighbor with his elbow 
and said— 

“Have you noticed it? Meadow Nuncle is in church. ,, 

And the neighbor nudged the one next to him, and so 
on and on. In the shortest time imaginable the news was 
being whispered in every nook and corner— 

“It's Meadow Nuncle! Do you see Meadow Nuncle?” 

Almost all the women had to turn around and gaze for 
a moment, and most of them got behind in the tune, and 
the leader of the singing had the greatest difficulty in 
keeping time at all. 

But the moment the pastor began to preach they paid 
strict attention, for his sermon contained such warm words 
of praise and thanksgiving that all his listeners were very 
happy. It seemed as if a new joy had come into every 
heart. 

When the service had ended, Meadow Nuncle walked 
out, holding Heidi’s hand in his, and went toward the 
parsonage. All the worshipers who came out with him 
and those who were already standing outside the church 
stared after him, and they followed behind a little way, to 
see if he really was going into the manse. He did so. 


WHEN THE CHURCH BELLS RING 205 

Then they gathered about in small groups and excitedly 
spoke of this unheard-of thing, that Meadow Nuncle had 
come to church. And they kept their gaze fixed on 
the entrance of the parsonage to see how he would next 
appear. Would he come out in anger and at strife with 
the world, or would he have made his peace with the pastor ? 
None could guess which it would be, for the simple reason 
that nobody knew what had brought the old gentleman 
down the mountain or what his coming meant. 

But it was easy to see that there was already a change 
of feeling in the hearts of many of the church-goers, for 
one would say to the other— 

“It may well be that Meadow Nuncle is not so bad as 
he is painted. You can tell by the way he holds the little 
one’s hand, he’s so careful!” 

And the other would answer, “That’s just what I 
always said, you remember? And he wouldn’t be going 
to call on the pastor if he was so terribly bad, he’d be 
afraid to. People always exaggerate such things.” 

But the baker who had driven Heidi up from Mayen- 
feld said— 

“That’s what I’ve been claiming from the first. Since 
when does a little child that has everything it wants to 
eat and drink, and all sorts of good things besides, run 
away from its fine home and go back to its grandfather, 
if that grandfather is wicked and wild and a man to 
fear!” 

A very tender feeling for Meadow Nuncle was now 
shown by the men. And this increased when the women 
joined them, for they had heard from the lips of Goat 


206 


HEIDI 


Peter’s mother and grandmother many things that went 
to prove Meadow Nuncle was quite a different sort of man 
from what people usually thought him to be. And this 
good opinion grew until all at once it seemed as if they 
were all waiting there outside the manse to welcome back 
into the fold an old friend whose absence they had long been 
sorry for. 

In the meantime Meadow Nuncle had gone to the 
pastor’s study door and knocked upon it. The preacher 
himself opened the door and met his callers, not with the 
surprise that was to be expected, but as if he had awaited 
their coming. The pastor, of course, could not help but 
know that Grandfather had been to church. He seized the 
old gentleman’s hand and shook it again and again, but 
Meadow Nuncle stood before him silently and could not 
find a single word to say. For he had not expected so 
friendly a greeting. At last, however, he said— 

“1 have come, Pastor, to ask you to forget the words I 
said to you, last year, up on the mountain meadow. Also, 
to beg you not to be angry with me for being stubborn and 
not listening to your sensible advice. You were right in 
everything you said, Pastor, and I was wrong. But I’m 
going to follow your advice now, if it is not too late, and 
take up quarters here in The Hamlet this winter. For the 
child is too delicate to endure the severe weather above. 
And even if the people down here look sidewise at me, 
because they do not trust me, why, I do not deserve any 
better treatment! But I know, Pastor, that you will not 
treat me so.” 

The fine eyes of the pastor shone with joy. He took 


WHEN THE CHURCH BELLS RING 207 


the old gentleman’s hand, pressed it in his own, and said 
with feeling— 

“Neighbor, you went to the right church before you 
came down to visit mine. Thank God for that! And you 
won’t be sorry if you come back to live among us. You 
will always be a dear friend and neighbor to me, and I 
look forward to spending many a happy evening hour with 
you this winter. For I enjoy your society very much, and 
the little girl will find good friends, too.” 

The pastor laid a very friendly hand on Heidi’s curly 
head, and then he took her hand in his to lead her outside 
as he walked along with her grandfather. And not until 
they were in front of the parsonage did he say good-by to 
them. 

So it came about that all the people who were stand¬ 
ing there saw the preacher shaking hands with Meadow 
Nuncle quite as if he were his best friend and could hardly 
bear to part with him. And the door of the manse had 
scarcely closed behind the pastor when the whole gathering 
crowded up to Meadow Nuncle, and each one seemed to 
wish to be the first to welcome him. In fact, so many hands 
were held out to him at the same instant that he did not 
know which one to take first. 

One said to him, “I am so pleased, Nuncle, that you are 
coming back to be with us again.” 

Another said to him, “I have been wanting for this 
long time to talk with you again, Nuncle.” 

Such things were being said on every side, and when to 
their friendly words of greeting Nuncle answered that 
he had decided to take up his old quarters in The Hamlet, 


208 


HEIDI 


to pass the winter there with his old friends, then there 
was excitement! You would have thought, indeed, that 
Meadow Nuncle was the most popular fellow in all Dorfli, 
and that they had had a terrible time getting along without 
him. 

Most of his new-found friends walked with Grand¬ 
father and the little child far up the pasture slopes, and 
before they left him each one wished to make Meadow 
Nuncle promise to pay him a call after he had moved down. 
When at last the people turned to go down the mountain, 
the old man stood and gazed after them a long time. A 
warm light rested on his face, as if some inner sun was 
shining through. Heidi looked at him steadily and said 
with joy— 

'‘Grandfather, never in your life did you look so hand¬ 
some as you have today.” 

“Do you really think so?” asked Grandfather with a 
smile. “Well, you see, Heidi, I am better off than I deserve 
to be, and am at peace with God and men. And that makes 
one feel so happy! The dear God was good to me the day 
he sent you to the mountain meadow.” 

When they got as far as Peter the Goatherd’s hut, 
Grandfather straightway opened the door and went in. 

“God greet you, Grandmother,” he called out. “I 
think we must get to patching again before the autumn 
winds blow.” 

“Why, heavens above, that’s Nuncle!” cried the old 
lady in joyful surprise. “That I should live to see this 
day! I can thank you now for all you’ve done for us, 
Nuncle. May God reward you!” 


WHEN THE CHURCH BELLS RING 209 

Trembling with happiness, the old grandmother held 
out her hand, and after her visitor had given it a hearty 
shake she still clung to his hand and went on to say— 

“There's another thing in my heart to ask of you, 
Nuncle. If I have ever done anything to hurt you, then 
don't punish me by letting Heidi go away before I lie in 
my grave down in the churchyard. Oh, you don’t know 
what the child is to me!" And she drew Heidi close to her 
and hugged her tightly. 

“Don’t worry, Grandmother," Nuncle said, soothingly. 
“I'll punish neither you nor myself in that way. We're all 
going to stick together now and. if God so wills, for a long 
time to come." 

Then Brigitte drew Nuncle secretly off to a corner of 
the room and showed him the pretty hat trimmed with 
feathers, and told him how it came to be there, and said 
she of course would not accept such a gift from the child. 

But Grandfather, well pleased, looked in Heidi's 
direction and said— 

“The hat is hers, and if she doesn't want to wear it on 
her head, she doesn't need to. And if she gave it to vou, 
take it." 

Brigitte was greatly pleased at this decision, which she 
had not expected She said— 

“It is certainly worth more than ten francs. Just look 
at it U In her joy she held the hat high for his inspection. 
“What real blessings this Heidi has brought back from 
Frankfort with her! I have been thinking whether I ought 
not to send Peterli to Frankfort for a little while, too. 
What do you say, Nuncle ?" 


210 


HEIDI 


Grandfather’s eyes twinkled gaily. He said in his 
opinion it could not do Peter any harm, but he would wait 
until there was a good chance for him to go. 

And then the person they were talking about came in 
the door. But first he banged his head against it so hard 
that it made everything rattle. He seemed to be in a tear¬ 
ing hurry. Out of breath and panting, he now stood in 
the middle of the room and held out a letter. That was a 
thing that had never happened before—a letter which they 
had given him in the Dorfli post office to deliver. 

They all sat down around the table, and Heidi opened 
her letter and read it aloud, without making a single mis¬ 
take. The letter had been written by Clara Sesemann. She 
said in it that since Heidi had gone away, the house had 
grown so dreary that she couldn’t bear it. And she had 
begged her father so long that he had finally agreed to 
make the trip to the baths at Ragaz the coming autumn. 
And Grandmama would come with them, too, for she 
wanted to visit Heidi and Grandfather up on the mountain 
meadow. 

And, further, Clara wrote that Grandmama had asked 
her to tell Heidi that she had done right in wishing to take 
the rolls to Grandmother. And, so the old lady would not 
have to eat them dry, she was sending along some coffee, 
which had already started on its way. And when she 
came to the mountain meadow. Heidi must take her to 
pay a visit to Grandmother. 

Then there was such joy and surprise at this news, 
and such a world of things to talk about and ask, because 
all of them were interested in what was going to happen, 


WHEN THE CHURCH BELLS RING 21 1 


that Grandfather himself did not notice how late it had 
grown. They were all so happy to think of the days that 
were coming, and almost more contented at being together 
on this very day, that the Grandmother finally said— 

“But the nicest thing of all is for an old friend to come 
and give us his hand again, just as he used to long ago. 
It is such a comfortable feeling to have in one’s heart, to 
realize that we have found again everything that is dear to 
us. You will come again soon, won’t you, Nuncle, and you, 
Heidi, tomorrow?” 

They gave their promise to Grandmother at once. And 
now it was time to go. Grandfather wandered with Heidi 
up the mountain pasture. And just as that morning the 
clear bells from near and far had called them down into The 
Hamlet, so now the peaceful ringing of the evening chimes 
gave them company on their way to the sunlit meadow hut, 
which smiled its welcome in the Sunday evening light. 













HEIDI MAKES USE OF WHAT 
SHE HAS LEARNED 


CHAPTER I 

PREPARATIONS FOR A JOURNEY 

The kind doctor who had insisted that Heidi be sent 
back to her home was walking down Broad Street toward 
the Sesemanns’. It was a sunny morning in September, 
so clear and lovely that you would think anyone would find 
joy in it. But the doctor was staring so hard at the stone 
sidewalk beneath his feet that he never once noticed the 
blue sky above him. There was a sadness in his face which 
had not been there in former days. And since the first of 
the year his hair had grown much more gray. 

The doctor had had an only daughter, and after his 
wife’s death she had come to mean everything to him—to 
be the one great happiness of his life. But some months 
before this the girl, whose youth was just beginning, also 
had been taken from him by death. And, from that time 
on, the doctor had never again seemed the light-hearted 
man of earlier years. 

He climbed the steps that led to the handsome Sese- 
mann house and rang the bell. Hardly had the sound of 
its ringing stopped when Sebastian opened the door, and 
the moment he saw who was waiting outside he was very 
polite and respectful in his manner. This was not only 
because the doctor was the best friend of the master of the 
house and of his sick little daughter, but here, as every¬ 
where else, he had by his kindness of heart won the good 
will of the whole household. 


215 


216 


HEIDI 


“Everything going along all right, Sebastian ?” the 
doctor asked in his usual friendly tone. 

He mounted the stairs that led to the second floor, fol¬ 
lowed by the butler, who was still bowing and scraping 
most devotedly, although the doctor of course did not know 
this, as his back was turned. 

“It’s a good thing you came, Doctor,” Mr. Sesemann 
greeted him. “We must talk over that trip to Switzerland 
once more. I want to know if you still think it necessary 
for us to give it up, now that Clara’s health has taken a 
turn for the better.” * 

“My dear Sesemann, what on earth am I to think of 
you?” the doctor replied, taking a seat beside his friend. 
“I’d give a good deal if your mother were here. It’s 
always straight sailing with her from the word ‘go.’ But 
there’s no getting along with you at all! This is the third 
time in one day that you’ve sent for me so that I can have 
the pleasure of saying the same thing over again.” 

Mr. Sesemann laid his hand almost humbly on the 
doctor’s shoulder. “Yes, I know, you are right. And the 
matter must make you impatient. But, dear friend, I do 
want you to understand how hard it is for me to deny the 
child what I promised her so definitely, and what has made 
her so happy day and night for months.” 

“Hard for you, I know,” said the doctor. “But, after 
all, does that change anything?” 

“Oh, perhaps not! But don’t you remember how 
patient the poor child has been during all these recent days, 
always hoping that the Swiss journey was to be soon 
and that she could visit her little friend Heidi in the Alps? 


PREPARATIONS FOR A JOURNEY 217 

And now, after the child has had to give up so much 
happiness, you ask me to destroy at a single blow the hope 
that she has lived on for so long. Oh, I tell you it is not 
possible!” 

“Sesemann, you must,” the doctor said, decidedly. 
And then, when he saw that his friend sat in silence and 
looking quite wretched, he went on to say, after a pause— 
“Just think how the matter stands. For years Clara 
has not had so bad a summer as this last has been. There 
is no question of her taking so long a journey without the 
greatest danger to her health. Besides, it's now the month 
of September. It may still be fine weather in the Alps, 
but it certainly will be cold up there by now.” 

“At night, yes, perhaps. But during the day—” 

“Ah, but the days are growing short. And as Clara 
can’t stay overnight on the mountain, but would have to 
live elsewhere, she would have altogether a bare two 
hours to be up there. It’s a trip of some hours up the 
mountain from Ragaz, especially as she would have to be 
carried up in a chair. To make a long story short, Sese¬ 
mann, it can’t be thought of!” 

“Oh, oh, oh! What will poor Clara say?” 

“Oh, we’ll go in and talk with her about it. She is 
a sensible girl, and I’ll tell her what my plan is. Next May, 
say, she can go to Ragaz and take the baths there for 
some time, until the weather is fine and warm in the Alps. 
Then she can be carried up every once in a while, and 
after she has once got back her strength somewhat she will 
enjoy these mountain trips twice as much as she would now. 
I suppose you know, Sesemann, if we want to have the 


15 


2l8 


HEIDI 


slightest hope of your child’s getting well again, we must 
use the greatest care and treat her very tenderly.” 

Mr. Sesemann, who had been listening quietly and 
with much attention to these last words, suddenly jumped 
to his feet. 

“Doctor,” he cried, “be honest with me! Have you 
the least hope that Clara will get well?” 

The doctor shrugged his shoulders sadly. 

“Not much,” he said softly. “But come, my dear fel¬ 
low, think of me for a moment. You have a dear child 
who longs for you when you are away from home and 
is happy when you come back. You never have to return 
to an empty house and sit down to a lonely dinner. Your 
child is well cared for at home. It is true she must go with¬ 
out many things that other children have, and yet in some 
ways she is more spoiled than they are. No, Sesemann, 
you and Clara are not to be so greatly pitied. You are for¬ 
tunate to have each other. But think of my lonely house!” 

Mr. Sesemann was striding up and down the room, 
as he always did when he was thinking deeply of some 
matter. Suddenly he came to a stop and tapped his friend 
on the shoulder. 

“Doctor, I have an idea. I can’t bear to see you like 
this. You’re not the man you used to be. You must get 
away for a while from your own thoughts, and do you 
know how to do that? You go to Switzerland in our place 
and visit Heidi.” 

The doctor was very much surprised at this offer and 
would not have consented to it if Mr. Sesemann had 
given him time to object. But the master of the house 


PREPARATIONS FOR A JOURNEY 219 

was so delighted with his new idea that he took his friend’s 
arm and marched him over to the room of his small 
daughter. The doctor was a great favorite of the sick 
girl, because he always treated her so nicely, and every 
time he came he had some funny story or other to tell her. 
She knew, of course, why he was no longer as lively as 
he used to be, and she did wish with all her heart that she 
could think of some way to make him happy again. 

She stretched out her hand the minute he came in and 
sat down beside her. Her father also drew his chair up 
to the beside and, with her hand in his, began to talk about 
the Swiss journey and the joy with which he had looked 
forward to it. He passed quickly over the fact that the trip 
was now out of the question, for he was afraid of the 
tears that were coming. Then he went on to tell of the 
new plan and showed Clara how great a help it would be 
to their dear friend to have this short vacation. 

True enough, the tears did come and swam in Clara’s 
blue eyes, try as she would to hold them back, for she knew 
that Papa hated to see her cry. But, oh, it was hard to 
give it all up now, when her only joy and comfort during 
the long, lonely hours of the past summer had been looking 
forward to her visit to Heidi! Clara never questioned 
what her father did, and she knew, of course, that he 
was asking her to give up the trip because it would be bad 
for her and so she must not go. She choked down her sobs 
and turned to the only hope that was left her. She took 
her good friend’s hand and stroked it, and said— 

“Oh, you will go to see Heidi, won’t you, Doctor? 
Then you can come back and tell me how things are on her 


220 


HEIDI 


mountain, and what she is doing, and her grandfather, 
and Peter, and the goats. They’re all such friends of 
mine! And you can take the things I want to send Heidi 
and the grandmother. I’ve got them all thought out. 
Please, Doctor, do go. And while you’re gone, I promise 
to take all the cod-liver oil you want me to, honest!” 

It is hard to say whether this promise of Clara’s decided 
the matter or not, but it seemed to do so, for the doctor 
smiled and said— 

"Then I certainly shall have to go, little Clara, so 
you’ll get plump and strong as Papa and I want you to be. 
Have you decided just when I must start?” 

"First thing tomorrow morning would be best, 
Doctor,” Clara answered. 

"Clara is right, so it would,” her father chimed in. 
"The sun is shining, the sky is blue, and there’s not a 
moment to be lost, for it is a shame not to be enjoying 
every such day in the Alps.” 

The doctor had to laugh a little. 

"In a minute you’ll be telling me, Sesemann, that it's 
my fault I’m not already at Heidi’s house. So I’d better 
hurry away as fast as I can,” he said. 

The doctor rose to go, but Clara held him fast. First, 
you see, there were so many things he had to tell Heidi for 
her. Then there were all the things he had to pay special 
attention to, so he could tell her about them afterward. 
She would send over later what she wanted him to take to 
Heidi, for Miss Rottenmeier would have to help her with 
the packing, and the housekeeper was off on one of her 
shopping tours in town and might not be back right away. 


PREPARATIONS FOR A JOURNEY 221 

The doctor promised to do everything just as she told 
him to. He would start on his journey, if not the first 
thing tomorrow, at least in the course of the following 
day. And when he returned, he would give her an exact 
account of everything he had seen and done. 

Servants in a house often have a wonderful way of 
finding out what is going on about them long before anyone 
thinks to tell them about it. Sebastian and Tinette must 
have had this gift of discovering things quickly, for hardly 
had the doctor, accompanied by Sebastian, reached the 
staircase when Tinette came into Clara’s room—this, in 
spite of the fact that she had been rung for only a second 
before. 

“Bring me this box full of nice fresh cakes like those 
we have for coffee, Tinette,” said Clara, pointing to a 
little chest which had been standing there for just this 
purpose a long time. The maid seized the object by one 
corner and let it dangle carelessly from her hand. After 
she had shut the door behind her, she said snippily— 

“Little things like that are no trouble at all.” 

When Sebastian had opened the front door, with his 
usual politeness, he said, with a bow— 

“I hope the doctor will not forget to give little Mamsell 
Sebastian’s best wishes.” 

“Why, look here, Sebastian,” the doctor asked pleas¬ 
antly, “how did you find out about my trip, so soon ?” 

The butler coughed slightly. 

“I am—I have—I don’t quite know myself—oh, yes, 
now I remember. I just happened to be going by the din¬ 
ing room a minute ago and heard the little Mamsell’s name 


222 


HEIDI 


mentioned. And as one does in such a case, you know—I 
put this and that together—and that’s the way—” 

“Oh, of course,” the doctor said, with a smile. “And, 
the more you put this and that together, the more you know. 
Good-by, Sebastian. I’ll deliver your message.” 

The doctor had just passed through the opened entrance 
door when he met with a surprise. The high wind that 
was blowing had kept Miss Rottenmeier from continuing 
her shopping tour, so she had returned and was on the 
point of coming in. The wind had puffed out the big shawl 
in which she was wrapped until she looked like a ship under 
full sail. The doctor moved back at once to make room 
for her. But Miss Rottenmeier had always shown a 
marked respect and politeness for this man of medicine, 
and she, too, on her side, drew back for him to pass. 

For a time the two stood facing each other, each wan¬ 
ing for the other to go through first. 

Finally such a strong gust of wind came along that the 
housekeeper, with all sails spread, was blown straight 
against the doctor. He just managed to give her room to 
pass, and the good lady was borne by the wind quite a way 
beyond him, so that she had to come back in order to greet 
in proper form the guest of the house. 

This flying on the wings of the wind had put her in a 
bad humor, but the doctor had a way all his own of sooth¬ 
ing her ruffled temper and making her good-natured again. 
He told her about his intended trip and asked her in his 
most gracious manner if she would not pack for him the 
things that were going to Heidi, as only she knew how to 
pack them. With this bit of flattery, the doctor went away. 


PREPARATIONS FOR A JOURNEY 223 

Clara fully expected to have a struggle with Miss 
Rottenmeier before she would consent to give away all 
the things which were intended for Heidi. But for once 
she was pleasantly disappointed, for the housekeeper was 
in the best of tempers. She at once took everything off 
the large table so she could spread out on it all the objects 
that Clara had gathered 'together and pack them where 
the invalid could watch. 

This was no light task, since the articles that had to 
be wrapped up were of all different shapes. 

First came the small, thick cape with the hood which 
Clara had chosen for Heidi so that next winter she could 
visit Grandmother whenever she wanted to, and not have 
to wait until her grandfather could come and wrap her up 
in the sack to keep her from freezing. Then came a thick, 
warm shawl for the grandmother so she could wind it 
around her and not have to freeze when the wind should 
again begin to rattle at the hut so dreadfully. Then 
followed the big box of cakes, also intended for Grand¬ 
mother, so that she might once in a while have something 
else than a roll to eat with her coffee. 

Next in order came an enormous sausage. Clara had 
first meant this gift for Peter, because he never got any¬ 
thing but bread and cheese, which must be tiresome. But 
later she changed her mind, because she was afraid that 
Peter would like the sausage so much he would devour it 
at a single meal. So his mother Brigitte was to have it 
and first cut off a big piece of it for herself and for the 
grandmother, and then she was to serve Peter his share 
at different times, as she thought best. 


224 


HEIDI 


Then there was a small sack of tobacco for Grand¬ 
father, who was so fond of smoking his pipe when he sat 
out in front of his hut of an evening. Last of all, there 
was a number of mysterious sacks, packages, and boxes, 
which Clara had especially enjoyed collecting because Heidi 
was going to find in them all sorts of surprises which 
would make her very happy. 

Finally the work was ended, and a large bundle lay 
on the floor ready for the journey Miss Rottenmeier 
looked down at it, and her mind was full of deep thoughts 
about the art of packing bundles well. Clara, for her part, 
could hardly keep her eyes from it, for her mind was 
dwelling on how Heidi would jump in the air and shout 
with joy when the enormous package should arrive. 

Then Sebastian came in and, with a mighty swing of 
his arms, lifted the heavy bundle to his shoulder, so that 
he could send it at once to the doctor’s house. 


CHAPTER II 

A GUEST ON THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 

Early dawn was glowing on the mountain tops, and 
a cool morning wind rustled in the pine trees, rocking the 
old branches to and fro. 

Heidi opened her eyes, for the voice of the wind had 
awakened her. The deep roaring of the wind always 
excited Heidi, and its magic drew her outdoors under the 
firs. She darted from her bed and could hardly wait to 
get dressed properly. And yet this must be done, for Heidi 
by this time had learned that one should always look clean 
and tidy. 

Then she came down the ladder, to find that Grand¬ 
father's bed was already empty. She ran outside. And 
there before the door stood Grandfather, gazing first up 
at the sky and 'then in all directions of the compass, as he 
always did, to see what sort of day it was going to be. 

Pink cloudlets were floating slowly by above them, 
and the sky grew ever a deeper blue, and there was a 
stream as of pure gold on the heights and the sloping pas¬ 
tures, for at that very moment the sun had risen above the 
lofty cliffs. 

“Oh, how oeautiful! Good morning, Grandfather!" 
Heidi cried as she ran up beside him. 

“Hello! So the sleep is out of your eyes, too, so early?" 
the old gentleman answered, offering his hand by way of 
greeting. 


225 


226 


HEIDI 


Then Heidi ran beneath the pine trees and skipped 
about with delight to the rushing and roaring music of the 
swaying boughs. And at every new puff of wind and 
loud surge of sound in the tree summits, she shouted for 
joy and jumped a little higher. 

In the meantime Grandfather had gone to the goat 
stable and milked Little Swan and Little Bear. Then he 
curried and washed them, until they were all clean for their 
trip to the mountain, and brought them out on the lawn. 
The moment Heidi saw her friends, she ran to them and 
clasped them about the neck. She greeted them fondly, 
and they bleated back at her happily and with perfect trust. 
Each of the goats seemed anxious to show still greater 
affection and kept pressing its head closer and closer to her 
shoulders, so that she was almost crushed between them. 
But Heidi was not afraid, and when the lively Barli began 
to shove and push so hard with its head, the child said— 

“Why, Little Bear, you’re butting just like Big Turk!”* 

And at that, Little Bear at once drew back her head 
and withdrew to a proper distance. Thereupon Schwanli 
had stretched her head high above her and bleated in a 
superior sort of way, so you could see clearly enough that 
she was thinking— 

“No one can honestly claim that I’m behaving like 
Turk.” 

As a matter of fact, the snow-white Schwanli was a 
bit more dignified than brown Barli. 

Peter’s signaling whistle was now heard from below, 
and soon all the lively goats came leaping up the slope, 
nimble Goldfinch in the van, springing higher than any. 


A GUEST ON THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 227 

Again Heidi was at once in the center of the flock, pushed 
this way and that in their rough welcome. But she shoved 
them all aside in order to get to timid Snowhopper, who 
was always bullied by the larger goats when she wanted to 
reach Heidi. 

By this time Peter made his appearance, giving one 
last shrill whistle to start the goats and send them scurry¬ 
ing off to pasture, for he wished 'to have a chance to 
exchange a word with Heidi. The goats scattered some¬ 
what when they heard his loud signal, and this made space 
for him to come to a stand in front of his friend 

“You might come along with me today if you want to,” 
was his rather surly greeting. 

“No, I can’t do it, Peter,” Heidi answered. “They may 
be coming from Frankfort any moment now, and I must 
be at home to receive them.” 

“That’s what you always say,” Peter growled. 

“But that’s the way things are, and the way they’ll 
stay until the people do come. Don’t you think I ought 
to be home, seeing they are traveling all the way from 
Frankfort just to visit me? Tell me, Peter, how you feel 
about it.” 

“Well, they can visit with Nuncle, can’t they?” Peter 
answered with a snarl. 

Their talk was interrupted at this moment by the loud 
voice of Grandfather— 

“Why isn’t the army moving forward? Whose fault 
is it, the general’s or the troops’ ?” 

The next second Peter faced about, swung his rod 
through the air so that it whistled, and at this well-known 


228 


HEIDI 


sound all the goats started off on a run with Peter after 
them full speed toward the mountain.— 

Since Heidi had been back home this time with Grand¬ 
father, every now and then something would occur to her 
which she had never thought of before. For example, she 
now made up her own bed each morning and did her level 
best to smooth it out until it was all even. Then she trotted 
about the hut, set every chair in its proper place, and hid 
neatly away in the closet whatever she found lying around 
loose. Then she got a cloth, climbed up on a chair, and 
rubbed the table with her linen rag until it shone. When¬ 
ever Grandfather appeared, he would look around him 
well pleased and say— 

“Every day is like Sunday in our house now. I tell 
you, Heidi didn’t go away for nothing.” 

So it was that today, too, after Peter had disappeared 
and she had had breakfast with Grandfather, Heidi set 
herself at once to work. But it seemed as if she never 
would get through. It was such a lovely morning out of 
doors, and every minute something turned up to interrupt 
the child’s tasks. 

First a sunbeam came darting gaily in through the 
window and actually seemed to say, “Come out to play, 
Heidi!” She felt she could not stay in the house another 
instant and ran outside. The sparkling sunshine rested on 
the meadow about the house, and it spread its brightness 
on all the mountains and far off down into the valley. The 
ground on the slope where she stood looked so dry that 
she had to sit down on it and look all around her for 
a little while. 


A GUEST ON THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 229 


Then suddenly she remembered that she had left the 
three-legged stool right in the middle of the hut and that 
she had not polished the table since breakfast. She jumped 
up at once and ran quickly back into the hut. 

But it was not long after that when there was such a 
mighty rustling in the fir trees that the music of it got 
somehow in all Heidi’s limbs. So she was forced to drop 
her work, run out again, and dance a little with the trees, 
as their branches were rocking and swaying gracefully. 

While all this was going on, Grandfather had been busy 
at one thing and another in the shop. Every once in a 
while he would come to the door and look smilingly on as 
Heidi pranced about. He was just turning back from one 
of these trips when he heard the child suddenly scream at 
the top of her lungs— 

“Grandfather, please come right away!” 

He strode quickly out again, in deathly fear that some¬ 
thing might have happened to Heidi. But he saw her 
streaking it off toward the cliff, shouting as she ran— 
“They’re coming! Oh, they’re coming! And the 
doctor’s got here first of all.” 

Heidi, with arms outstretched, ran up to her old 
friend. When she was near enough, she seized the hand 
he was holding out to her and cried with the greatest glee— 
“Good morning, Doctor! And I thank you again 
millions of times.” 

“God greet you, Heidi!” said the doctor with a kindly 
smile. “But why do you thank me the moment I arrive?” 

“Because you let me come back to Grandfather,” the 
child answered. 


230 


HEIDI 


The doctor's face lighted up as if with sunshine. He 
had not hoped for so hearty a welcome in the Alps. He 
had felt very lonely while toiling up the mountain path, 
and had been so wrapped in his own thoughts that he had 
had no eyes for the beauty of the scene about him and had 
not noticed how it kept ever increasing in beauty. 

He had been afraid that Heidi would have almost for¬ 
gotten him, for they had seen so little of each other. And, 
besides, as the message he had for these people was sure to 
be a disappointment to them, he felt they would not care to 
welcome him, because he had not brought the expected 
friends along. 

Instead of this, however, Heidi's eyes were shining 
with pure joy, and here she was, filled with thankfulness 
and love, clinging to her good friend's arm as if she would 
never let go. 

With a sudden rush of fatherly tenderness, the doctor 
took the child's hand in his. 

“Come, dear," he said, with his kindliest smile, “take 
me straight to your grandfather and show me where your 
home is." 

But at this Heidi stood still and looked wonderingly 
down the mountain slope. 

“Where did you leave Clara and Grandmama?" she 
asked. 

“That's just it! Now, I'll have to tell you something 
that will hurt you as much as it does me," the doctor 
answered. “You see, Heidi, I'm all alone. Clara was very 
sick and no longer fit to travel, and so Grandmama didn’t 
come with me, either. But early next year, as soon as the 


A GUEST ON THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 231 

days get warm and long again, they are coming, sure as 
anything!” 

Heidi was completely taken back by this news. For 
a moment she just could not grasp the fact that what she 
had all along thought to be so certain had suddenly become 
untrue. She stood without moving when she heard this 
unexpected message. The doctor had nothing to say, and 
there was absolute quiet all about them. The only sound 
that broke the stillness was the roaring of the wind in the 
trees high above their heads. Then, all at once, it dawned 
on Heidi why it was that she had run down the mountain, 
and that the doctor had come. She looked up at him. 

There was something so sad in the gaze that rested on 
her that she had never seen one like it before. The doctor 
had never looked at her that way in Frankfort. It went 
straight to Heidi’s heart. She couldn’t bear to have any¬ 
one unhappy, and least of all the nice doctor. It must 
surely be because Clara and Grandmama could not come 
with him. She sought for some way of comforting him, 
and hit upon it at once. 

“Oh, spring will be here before long again, really, and 
then they’re sure to come,” Heidi said, to comfort him. 
“It never takes long where we live, and then you see they 
can stay all the longer with us, and Clara will like that 
lots better. And now let’s go see Grandfather.” 

Hand in hand the two good friends started up for the 
hut. Heidi wanted so very much to make the doctor happy 
again that she once more assured him it never took long 
on the mountain meadow for the long summer days to 
come back—really, almost before you noticed it! And 


232 


HEIDI 


so Heidi talked herself into a happier frame oi mind, and 
when they gained the top of the climb she called gaily to 
Grandfather— 

'They haven’t come yet, but it won’t be long now 
before they are here, too.” 

The doctor was no stranger to Grandfather, for Heidi 
had already spoken of him very often. The old gentleman 
held out his hand to their guest and bade him a hearty 
welcome. Then the men sat down on the bench beside 
the hut and did not forget to save a little place for Heidi. 
The doctor, with a friendly wave of the hand, motioned 
to her to sit close by him. 

Then he began 'to tell how Mr. Sesemann had urged 
him to take the trip, and how he himself had imagined it 
might do him good, as he hadn’t felt quite strong for a 
long time. He whispered to Heidi that a certain some¬ 
thing that he had brought from Frankfort for her would 
soon be coming up the mountain. And this, he felt sure, 
would be more fun for her than just seeing the old doctor. 
The child was all on edge with excitement to know what 
the thing would turn out to be. 

Grandfather urged the doctor as hard as ne could to 
spend the beautiful autumn days on the mountain meadow. 
Or at least he must come up every day when it was good 
weather, for Meadow Nuncle could not exactly ask him 
to spend his nights with them, because he did not have a 
bed to offer him. 

He advised their guest, for this reason, not to go back 
every evening ’way to Ragaz, but to take a room down 
in The Hamlet. He would find the little hotel there simple 


A GUEST ON THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 233 

but well cared for. Then he could come up to see them 
on the meadow every morning. And this, Nuncle thought, 
would do him a world of good. Then, too, he could show 
the gentleman other points of view farther up the mountain 
which would be sure to please him. The doctor thought 
this a fine idea, and said it suited him exactly. 

Meanwhile it had got to be noon. The wind had gone 
down long since, and not a leaf was stirring in the pine 
boughs. The air was still mild and lovely for such a height, 
and was fanned into a delicious coolness around the sunny 
bench where they were sitting. 

Meadow Nuncle rose and went into the hut, to come 
back in a moment carrying a table, which he placed in 
front of the bench. 

‘There we are! Heidi, now go and get what we have 
to eat,” he said. “Our guest must put up with what we 
have, for even if our cooking is the plainest, our dining 
room certainly is the best in the world.” 

“That's what I say, too,” the doctor answered as he 
gazed down into the sunlit valley. “And I accept your 
invitation most gladly, for everything must taste good up 
here.” 

Then Heidi ran back and forth like lightning and 
brought them everything she could find in the cupboard, 
for it was the greatest fun on earth to have the doctor eat 
a meal with them. In the meantime Grandfather was 
getting the dinner ready, and he now appeared with a 
steaming jug of milk and toasted strips of yellow cheese. 
Then he carved from the pink meat of the joint, which 
had long been drying in the open air, slices so thin that 


16 


2 34 


HEIDI 


you could see through them. And the doctor swore that 
for a whole year he had not eaten a single meal that 
tasted so good as this one. 

“Oh, I tell you, our Clara must come,” he said after a 
little. “She would gain new strength here, and after she’d 
been eating a while the way I have today, she’d be plump 
and firm as never before in her life.” 

Not long afterward a man came climbing up the trail 
with a great bundle on his back. When he reached the 
hut, he threw his burden on the ground, stretched out 
his arms, and drew in deep breaths of the cool high¬ 
land air. 

“A-ha! There’s the luggage that came from Frankfort 
with me,” the doctor said as he rose to his feet. He took 
Heidi’s hand and walked over to the bundle and began to 
untie it. When the first heavy wrapping had been removed, 
he said— 

“There you go, my child! Open it yourself, and see 
what treasures you can find in it.” 

This Heidi at once began to do, of course. She tilted 
the big round parcel on its side, and as its many contents 
started to roll out, her eyes grew wide with surprise. But 
she made no sound until the doctor reached down and 
lifted the top from a large box, saying, “See what the 
grandmother gets to eat with her coffee!” 

And then Heidi did cry out with joy, “Oh, oh! Now 
at last Grandmother has nice cakes to eat!” 

She danced gaily about the box, and was all for pack¬ 
ing the gifts together again and running right down to 
Grandmother’s. But Grandfather said that they would 


A GUEST ON THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 235 

go down when the doctor left, toward evening, and carry 
the things with them. 

Then Heidi discovered the pretty little sack of tobacco 
and took it to Meadow Nuncle. He was very much pleased 
with it. He filled his pipe at once from it, and the two men 
then sat on the bench and surrounded themselves with 
great clouds of tobacco smoke, and had a good long talk 
together. Heidi gave her whole attention to her beauti¬ 
ful treasures. 

Suddenly, however, she again stood by the bench in 
front of her guest, waiting until there was a break in the 
stream of conversation. Then she said— 

“I don’t care what you say, my presents haven’t been 
any more fun than seeing the old doctor again.” 

The two men burst out into a shout at this. And the 
doctor said he was mighty glad to hear it. 

When the sun was on the point of setting behind the 
mountains, the guest got up to make his way back to The 
Hamlet, where he was to rent lodgings. Grandfather 
tucked the box of cakes, the long sausage, and the shawl 
under his arm, the doctor took Heidi’s hand in his, and 
they all set off down the mountain for Goat Peter’s hut. 
There Heidi left them, for she had promised to wait at 
Grandmother’s until Nuncle had walked with their guest 
down to Dorfli and should return to call for her. 

As the doctor was shaking hands with Heidi and 
saying good night, she asked— 

“What would you say to our going up to the pasture 
with the goats tomorrow ?” 

That was the nicest thing to do that she knew of. 


236 


HEIDI 


'That’s exactly what we will do, go up there together,” 
he answered heartily. 

Then the men went on their way, and Heidi slipped 
into Grandmother’s house, but try as she would she had to 
make three trips of it. First it was all she could do to 
drag the box of cakes in. Then she had to go out again 
to bring in the sausage, for her grandfather had set the 
things all down in front of the door. And she had to go 
back a last time to fetch the big shawl. She carried every 
thing as close up to Grandmother as she could so the old 
lady could feel the things and know what they were. She 
laid the shawl across Grandmother’s knees. 

“It’s all from Clara and Grandmama in Frankfort/’ 
she said. 

Brigitte was so astonished that she could not move 
hand or foot, but stood and watched Heidi drag in the 
heavy articles and spread them out before their eyes. 

“Now, Grandmother, aren’t you pleased about the 
cakes?” Heidi asked several times. “Just see how soft 
they are!” 

And each time Grandmother answered her— 

“Of course I am, my dear! What lovely people they 
must be!” 

Then she would run her hand gently over the thick soft 
shawl and say— 

“My, but that’s a splendid thing for the cold winter! 
It’s so wonderful, why, I never dreamed I’d have its like!” 

Heidi could not understand why the old lady seemed 
to like the gray shawl better than she did the cakes. For 
her part, Brigitte could not get far away from the sausage 


f A GUEST ON THE MOUNTAIN MEADOW 237 

which lay on the table, and she gazed at it with great 
astonishment. She had never even dreamed of such a 
giant sausage, and here it was just she that was to have 
it for her own and even cut into it! That seemed to her 
a miracle, nothing less. She shook her head and said 
timidly— 

“We’ll have to wait and ask Nuncle whose it is.” 

But Heidi had no doubts at all about it and said— 

“It’s for you to eat, and for nothing and nobody else.” 

Just at that moment Peter came clumping in. “Meadow 
Nuncle is right on my heels and wants Heidi to”—so far 
he got in his speech and no farther. 

For his eyes had fallen on the table where the sausage 
was lying. And the sight of it so overcame him that words 
failed him. But Heidi understood what he was about to 
say and stretched out her hand to say good-by to Grand¬ 
mother. 

It is true that Meadow Nuncle no longer went by the 
hut nowadays without stepping in for a moment to pass 
the time of day with Grandmother. And she was always 
more than pleased to hear his step, for he was sure to have 
a cheering word for her. But today it was late for Heidi, 
who rose every day with the sun. And her grandfather 
said, “The child must have her sleep,” and was firm about it. 

So he called good night to Grandmother through the 
open door and took Heidi’s hand as she ran out to meet 
him. And under the canopy of twinkling stars the two 
wandered toward their peaceful cottage. 


CHAPTER III 
A REWARD 

Early next morning the doctor was climbing up the 
mountain from Dorfli, in company with Peter and his 
goats. This well-meaning gentleman tried more than once 
to start a talk with the goatherd, but with no success. For 
it was not easy to get Peter to say anything, and the best 
the doctor could do was to draw a few short words in reply 
to his questions. 

So the whole company wandered silently up to the 
meadow hut, where they found Heidi waiting for them 
with her two goats, all three of them as lively as crickets 
and as full of gladness as the sunshine that bathed the 
heights. 

“You coming along?” Peter said. It was the question 
he never failed to ask whenever he caught sight of Heidi. 

“Surely. At least, I will if the doctor goes, too.” 

Peter looked at her guest out of the corners of his eyes. 

Then the grandfather came out of the house, carrying 
their luncheon bag in his hand. First he saluted the doctor 
very respectfully, and then he walked over to Peter and 
hung the bag over his shoulder. 

It was heavier than it usually was, for Nuncle had 
put quite a piece of ruddy dried meat in it. He thought 
their guest might like to have it by the time they had 
reached the upper pasture, and might enjoy eating dinner 
up there with the children. Peter smiled almost all the 


238 


A REWARD 


239 


way from one ear to the other, for he guessed that there 
was something specially fine in the bag. 

The climb up the mountain was now begun. Heidi 
was entirely surrounded by her goats. They kept butting 
one another out of the way, for each animal wished to be 
next to her. And so for a while she was shoved along in 
the midst of the flock. But at last she stood still and 
said— 

“Now run along like nice children and don’t keep 
coming back to push me about so! I want to walk a way 
with the doctor.” 

Then she gently patted the back of Schneehoppli, 
who was always right beside her, warning this animal 
especially to be very obedient. With that, she edged her 
way out of the herd and walked with the doctor, who 
took her hand and held it fast. 

He had more success in getting Heidi to talk than he 
had with Peter. She started at once to chatter, and she 
had a thousand things to tell him about the goats and their 
queer ideas, about the highland flowers, and the cliffs, and 
the birds—so many things, in fact, that before they knew 
it they had got to the pasture. 

But while they had been thus busy during their way 
up the mountain, Peter had been frequently frowning at 
the doctor and casting at him sidelong glances which 
would have scared him terribly if he had noticed them. 
The doctor, however, remained ignorant of this fact. 

When they came to the end of their journey, Heidi led 
her dear friend straight to her favorite spot, to the place 
where she always went to sit down and gaze about her. 


240 


HEIDI 


And here they dropped down on the ground and began 
to drink in the beauty of the scene 

The golden sun of autumn shone on the peaks round 
about them and on the green valley far below. The tinkling 
of goat bells came up to them from the lower mountains 
on every hand, gentle and sweet as if they were promising 
peace to all the world. Golden sunbeams flashed twinkling 
and gleaming lights here and there in the great glacier 
above them, and grim Falkniss reared its towers of rock 
with all its oldtime splendor high into the deep blue of. 
heaven. 

The wind of morning breathed softly and deliciously 
over the face of the mountain and stirred with its gentle 
touch the few bluebells still left from the thousands of 
summer. And they nodded their tiny heads sleepily in 
the warm sunshine. The big bird of prey flew high in the 
air in ever-widening circles, but he did not scream today. 
With wings widespread, he floated peacefully through the 
blue haze of light and took his ease. 

Heidi's eyes missed no part of it all. It was so 
beautiful, every bit—the flowers nodding gaily, the blue 
sky, the happy sunshine, the birds contentedly hovering 
in mid air! The child’s eyes shone with joy. She glanced 
at her friend to see if he was noticing all this loveliness, 
for until this moment the doctor had been silently looking 
about him, sunk in his own thoughts. But now, as he 
caught Heidi’s glowing look, he said— 

“Ah, my dear, it might be very beautiful here! But 
tell me, if a man brings a sad heart to this spot, how can 
he go about things so -that he can enjoy it all?” 


A REWARD 


241 

“O-ho!” Heidi cried happily. “Your heart is never 
sad here—but only when you’re in Frankfort.” 

A smile passed over the doctor’s face, but it went as 
quickly as it had come. Then he said again— 

“Suppose a man should come up here and bring all 
the sadness from Frankfort with him. Do you know of 
anything that could help in such a case?” 

“When he no longer knows how to help himself, then 
he must just tell all his troubles to the dear God,” Heidi 
answered with perfect trust. 

“That is a fine thought, my child,” said the doctor. 
“But suppose that what makes you so sad and miserable 
comes from Him in the beginning, what can you say to 
the dear God then?” 

Heidi had to stop and think what might be done in such 
a case. But one thing she was sure of, and that was you 
could get help from the dear God, no matter what your 
sorrow might be. She found the answer she wanted in 
her own experience. 

“Why, then you just have to wait,” she said firmly, 
after a moment’s pause. “And you have to think to your¬ 
self, The dear God knows at this very moment of some 
happiness that is coming to me later on, so I must just be 
patient and not run away from him.’ Then all at once 
things will turn out so that you can tell the dear God was 
only planning for your good all the time that you were 
doubting Him. But you couldn’t be expected to see that 
at first, because you were only thinking of the awful 
sadness of the moment and didn’t know that would change 
by and by.” 


242 


HEIDI 


"You have a beautiful faith, and you must never lose 
it, Heidi,” the doctor said. He looked for a while with¬ 
out speaking at the vast rocky mountains across from 
them, and then down into the sunlit valley of green. 
Then he went on to say— 

"You see, Heidi, a man might be sitting here with a 
great shade over his eyes, so that he could not take in 
any of the beauty which surrounded him. And then his 
heart might be sadder than ever, just here where it is so 
lovely. Can’t you see that?” 

A pain shot through Heidi’s happy heart at these words. 

The great shade which the doctor said lay across his 
eyes made her think of Grandmother, who was never again 
to see the bright sun and the beauty of the uplands. That 
was a sorrow that always woke to new life in Heidi’s 
heart whenever the memory came to her. For a time she 
had nothing to say because of the grief that had so spoiled 
her joy. But then she said earnestly— 

"Yes, Doctor, I understand what you mean. But 
there’s another thing I know, and that is, when you feel so 
badly you must say one of Grandmother’s hymns. It’s sure 
to make you feel a little brighter, anyway, and sometimes 
it helps so much that you’re quite cheerful again. Grand¬ 
mother says so.” 

"What hymns are you speaking of, Heidi?” the 
doctor asked. 

"I only know the one about the sun and the beautiful 
garden,” Heidi answered, "and a few verses from the 
other long hymn that Grandmother’s fond of. I always 
have to read them three times to her.” 


A REWARD 


243 


“Say those verses for me, won’t you? I’d like to hear 
them, too.” And the doctor settled down to listen very 
carefully. 

Heidi folded her hands and thought for a moment 
before speaking. 

“Shall I begin at the place where Grandmother says 
faith always comes back into her heart?” 

The doctor nodded his head in assent. 

Then Heidi began: 

Have faith that He will lead thee, 

Thy Savior wise and true, 

That He will ever feed thee 
In wondrous pastures new. 

He shows the ways of living 
To those who heed His word, 

His love and counsel giving 
Where’er His voice is heard. 

At times He seems to leave thee, 

Nor sees thy searching hand; 

Though doubt and sorrow grieve thee, 

He hears not thy demand, 

As if His face were hidden 
Forever from thy sight 

And hope itself forbidden 

To pierce the gloom of night. 

But if thy faith uphold thee 
Through evil’s loud alarms, 

He comes again to fold thee 
Within His tender arms. 

He never fails to quicken 
The spirit sore oppressed. 

All who are heavy stricken 
Find His eternal rest. 


244 


HEIDI 


But, after she had been reciting for quite a while, she 
suddenly came to a stop, for she was not sure that the 
doctor heard what she was saying. He had put his hand 
over his eyes, and was sitting perfectly still. 

Heidi thought perhaps he had dozed off for a moment. 
She decided to wait until he woke up again, and then if 
he wanted to hear some more verses he would tell her 
so. Not a sound came to break the deep silence. 

The doctor did not speak, but he was not sleeping. 
His mind had been carried back to long-forgotten days. 
He was again standing, a little boy, beside the chair of 
his dear mother. She had put an arm around his neck 
and was reciting to him the hymn that Heidi had just 
been saying, the verses that he had not heard for many 
long years. Again he heard the voice of his mother and 
saw her dear eyes resting so fondly upon him, and after 
the words of the hymn had died away, the pleasant voice 
seemed to be speaking other words to him. The doctor 
must have loved to listen to them again and must have 
been thinking of them, for he sat there a long time, his 
face still buried in his hands, silent, without movement 
of any sort. 

When he finally straightened up, he noticed that Heidi 
was looking at him oddly. He took the child’s hand in his. 

“Your hymn was lovely, Heidi,” he said, and his voice 
was more cheerful than it had yet been. “We must come 
up here some other day, and then you can recite it for me 
again.” 

While this was going on, poor Peter was just as busy 
as he could be getting rid of his anger. It was several 


A REWARD 


245 


days now since Heidi had come with him up to the pas¬ 
ture, and now that she had got there at last, this old 
gentleman spent all his time with her and gave him no 
chance to be with her at all. This made him hopping 
angry, and he didn’t think it fair. 

So he sat down quite a way off and behind the gentle¬ 
man’s back, so that the unsuspecting doctor could not see 
him when he doubled up his fist and shook it threaten¬ 
ingly, or yet later, when he clenched both his fists and 
waved them in the air. And the longer Heidi remained 
sitting beside her friend, the more wildly did Peter double 
up his fists, the more madly did he shake them at the back 
of his enemy’s head. 

In the meantime the sun had got to that point in the 
sky where it stands when the hour has come for dinner. 
Peter never made a mistake in this important matter. 
So suddenly he howled down with all his might to the 
others— 

“We’ve got to eat!” 

Heidi rose to her feet and started to get the luncheon 
bag so that the doctor could have his noonday meal right 
where he sat. But he said he was not hungry and only 
wanted a glass of milk to drink. After that he’d like to 
walk around the mountain a bit and then climb higher 
up. Thereupon Heidi found out that she was not hungry 
either, and also wanted nothing but milk, and then she’d 
like to take the doctor up to the big moss-covered stones 
where Distelfink once upon a time had almost jumped 
down and where all the spicy herbs grew. She ran over 
to Peter and explained it all to him. She told him first 


HEIDI 


246 

to get a bowlful of milk from Schwanli for the doctor, 
and then another one for her. 

Peter gaped open-mouthed at Heidi for an instant, 
and then he asked suddenly— 

“Who’s to have what’s in the sack?” 

“You are,” Heidi answered. “But first you must 
hurry and get us our milk.” 

Hurry, must he? Never in his life had Peter done 
anything half so quickly as he now milked Schwanli. For 
he saw the luncheon bag right there before him, and 
he didn’t know what the contents looked like, and they 
belonged to him. 

The moment his two companions had quietly drained 
their milk and turned away, Peter opened the bag and 
took a peek at its inside. When he caught sight of the 
wonderful piece of meat it contained, Peter was all 
a-tremble, and he had to have another look in the bag 
to make sure that the meat was real. Then he thrust in 
his hand to take out the welcome gift and eat it, when 
suddenly he drew his fingers back again’ as" if. he did not 
dare seize it. 

For he remembered how he had stood there behind 
the gentleman’s back and shaken his fist at him, and now 
that very same person was giving him a whole dinner the 
like of which he had never seen. And suddenly Peter 
was sorry for what he had done, for he felt as if his 
silly act now kept him from taking out the fine present 
and eating it. Then all at once it came to him what to do. 

He jumped to his feet and ran back to the spot where 
he had stood a few minutes before. When he got there, 


A REWARD 


247 


he stretched his open hands high above him as a sign that 
clenching his fists no longer meant anything. And in 
that position he stood for some little time, until he felt 
that the whole matter was forgiven and forgotten. Then 
he tore back to the luncheon bag. And now that he had 
straightened things out with his good conscience he was 
able to set to work upon his unusual dinner in perfect 
enjoyment. 

The doctor and Heidi had been wandering around 
together for a long while and had been enjoying them¬ 
selves extremely. But then the doctor found that it was 
time for him to go back, and thought, too, that the child 
would not be sorry to spend a little while longer with her 
goats. Heidi, however, had no idea of doing this, for if 
she did, the guest would have to make the long return 
trip all by himself. So she insisted that she would walk 
with him as far as her grandfather's hut, at least, and 
perhaps a little way farther. 

She went along with her good friend, therefore, her 
hand in his, and on their march there was no lack of 
things to show him and tell him about. He had to see 
all the spots where the goats liked best to graze, and 
where in summer the thickest masses of yellow roses and 
red centauries bloomed. She knew about these flowers 
and many others, for Grandfather had taught her their 
names, as far as he himself knew them. 

But at last the doctor said that he really must be 
going. They said good-by to each other and he took the 
path down the mountain. But every now and then he 
would turn back to see Heidi still in the place where he 


248 


HEIDI 


had left her, following him with her eyes and waving 
her hand to him. Just so had his own dear daughter 
done whenever he used to go away from home.— 

It was a clear, sunny autumn month. Each morning 
without fail the doctor would come up on the mountain, 
and then they would start off at once on some delightful 
trip or other. Often he accompanied Meadow Nuncle on an 
excursion high up into the rocky mountains, where old 
weather-beaten fir trees nodded down at them. And the 
great bird of prey must have had his nest somewhere 
about there, for he often shot past quite close to the heads 
of the two men with a mighty whir of feathers and 
loud screaming. 

The doctor found great pleasure in his companion's 
conversation and could not but be amazed at Nuncle's 
store of knowledge about the many plants around them 
on the mountain side. He knew what they could be used 
for. He found something precious and valuable in all 
of them, as, for example, in the resinous pines and in the 
dark firs with their fragrant needles, in the curly moss 
sprouting between the roots of the old trees, as well as in 
the delicate, small plants and the half-invisible flowers 
that spring late in the year from the sturdy soil of the 
Alps. 

And the old gentleman had just as exact a knowledge 
of the life and habits of all the highland animals both great 
and small. And he had a great stock of amusing tales for 
the doctor about the ways of the little folk which dwell 
in the rock caves and in the earth caverns, and even in 
the branches of the lofty firs. 


A REWARD 


249 


Time passed as if by magic on these excursions, and 
often at dusk, when the doctor was shaking Nuncle’s 
hand at parting, he would say— 

“My dear friend, I never say good-by to you but that 
I am the wiser by having learned something new.” 

But on many days and generally on the very finest of 
all, the doctor wished to go with Heidi. At such times the 
two often sat together on the beautiful spur of the moun¬ 
tain where they had been the first day after his arrival, 
and here Heidi had to recite the verses of her hymn again 
and tell the doctor everything she was thinking about. 
And Peter would often be crouched behind them as they 
sat and talked, but by now he had grown quite tame and 
no longer shook his fists at them. 

So the fair month of September drew to its close. 

Then, one morning, the doctor came, but he did not 
look by any means as happy as he usually did. He said 
that this was his last day and that he had to go back to 
Frankfort. He did not like this at all, for he had grown to 
be as fond of the mountain as if it were his own home. 

This news, as you might expect, was unwelcome to 
Meadow Nuncle, for he, too, had come to enjoy the doc¬ 
tor^ conversation very much indeed. And as for Heidi, 
she had grown so accustomed to seeing her beloved 
friend every day that, for the life of her, she could not 
understand why their joy should have such a sudden end. 
She looked up at him in wonder, thinking she might have 
made a mistake. But it was just as the doctor said. He 
bade Grandfather farewell and then asked if Heidi would 
not walk with him a piece. She tucked her hand in his 
17 


250 


HEIDI 


and went down the mountain with him, but still she just 
could not get it through her head that he was really 
going. 

After a while the doctor stopped and said that Heidi 
had walked far enough now and must be turning back. 
He ran his hand once or twice through the child’s curly 
hair and said— 

"And now I must leave you, Heidi. How I wish I 
could take you back to Frankfort with me and keep you 
always!” 

At these words the picture of Frankfort rose before 
Heidi’s eyes. She saw the long rows of houses and the 
many stone streets, and Miss Rottenmeier and Tinette. 
So she answered her guest a little timidly— 

"But I’d rather have you come back and stay with us 
again.” 

"Now you speak of it,” the doctor said, pleasantly, 
"I believe that would be better.” 

He held out his hand to the child. Heidi laid hers in 
it and looked at her friend who was so soon to go away. 
The kindly eyes that were gazing down at her filled with 
tears. Then the doctor swung around and hurried off 
down the mountain. 

Heidi stood stock still. The doctor’s fine eyes and the 
tears that she had seen in them went straight to her tender 
heart. Suddenly the child burst out into violent weeping 
and ran as fast as her legs would carry her after the dis¬ 
appearing doctor. She called to him as loudly as she 
could, in the midst of her sobs— 

"Doctor! Doctor!” 


A REWARD 


251 


He turned around and waited for her. 

By now the child had caught up with him. The tears 
ran down her cheeks as she sobbed out— 

“Oh, surely I’ll go with you right away to Frankfort. 
And I’ll stay with you as long as ever you want me. But 
first I must run fast and tell Grandfather about it.” 

The doctor patted and stroked the little excited face. 

“Oh, no, you mustn’t, Heidi dear,” he said in his kind¬ 
est tones. “Not right now, anyway. You must stay on 
here under the fir trees so you won’t scare us by getting 
sick again. But, see here, I want to ask you something! 
Suppose I get sick and have no one to nurse me, will you 
come then and stay with me? Can I think then that there 
is one who cares for me and is fond of me?” 

“Oh, yes, you can. If you’re sick, then I will surely 
come to you the very same day And, anyhow, I love 
you almost as much as I do Grandfather,” Heidi sobbed 
forth. 

Then once more the doctor pressed her hand and 
hurried away. But Heidi stood where she was and waved 
her hand again and again so long as there was the slight¬ 
est speck of her disappearing friend to be seen in the dis¬ 
tance. When he had turned around for the last time to 
look at the sunny mountain where Heidi stood and waved 
at him, he said softly to himself— 

“It is good to live up there on the mountain where 
there is healing for the body and the soul, and where the 
joy of living is given back to one.” 


CHAPTER IV 
WINTER IN THE HAMLET 

On the mountain meadow the snow lay so deep around 
the hut that it looked as though the windows were stand¬ 
ing on the level of the ground, for beneath them not a bit 
of the cottage walls was to be seen, and even the entrance 
door had entirely disappeared. 

If Meadow Nuncle had been living up there, he would 
have had to do the same thing Peter did every day when, 
as usual, there had been a fresh snow the night before. 
Each morning the goatherd was forced to jump out the 
window of his room, and if it had not been cold enough 
during the night to form a stiff crust he sank down almost 
over his head in the soft snow. Often Peter had to struggle 
and strike out around him with his hands and his head 
and feet, in order to work his way out to freedom. 

Then his mother would hand him the big broom out 
of the window, and with this Peter would push and scrape 
the snow in front of him until he had come to the door. 
Nor was that the last of his task, for, when he came to the 
door, all the snow had to be dug away. For, you see, the 
snow was either still soft and so, when the door was opened, 
it would fall bodily into the kitchen; or it was frozen solid, 
and in that case they were completely walled in. And 
then no one could force his way through this cliff of ice, 
and of the three who lived in the hut Peter was the only 
one small enough to slip out through the little window. 


252 


WINTER IN THE HAMLET 


253 


Peter rather liked the weather when things froze hard. 
If he was bound for Dorfli, all he had to do was open the 
window, crawl through it, and stand on the level surface 
of the firm field of snow. Then his mother would shove 
his small sled through the window after him, and Peter 
could sit on that and start off wherever he wanted to. For, 
however he might go, he slid downhill just the same because 
the whole pasture land was nothing but a great continuous 
path of ice. 

Nuncle had been as good as his word and was not 
living on the mountain meadow that winter. As soon as 
the first fall of snow had come, he closed the hut and the 
stable and, together with Heidi and the goats, moved 
down to The Hamlet. 

There, near the church and the parsonage, stood a 
large, roomy building. In olden days this had been a fine 
piece of property, as might still be seen in many places, 
though the mansion was now more or less in a state of ruin. 
A brave soldier had lived in it once upon a time. He had 
fought in the Spanish wars and done many courageous 
deeds and returned with a great deal of money. He had 
come back to his native village Dorfli and with his riches, 
and had built himself a splendid house, for here he wished 
to end his days. 

But, after all, he did not stay long. Life in the quiet 
Dorfli was too slow for him, and he had lived too many 
years in the noisy world to endure such peace. So, off he 
marched again one day, and never was seen afterward. 

Many years came and went before it was surely 
known that the soldier was dead. And then a distant 


254 


HEIDI 


relative from down in the valley moved into the mansion, 
but by that time it had already begun to fall to pieces, and 
the new owner did not care enough for his property to 
repair it. So poor people rented the house for next to 
nothing, and when a part of the building would fall off 
they let it lie wherever it struck the ground. 

Since that time many years had again passed by. And 
when Nuncle brought his young son, Tobias, back to Dorfli, 
he took the ruined house and lived in it. But since those 
long-forgotten days it had stood empty most of the time, 
for no one could possibly live in the place unless he knew 
how to keep the house from further ruin, and unless 
he could at least to some extent stop up the holes and 
gaps in its walls. For winters up in The Hamlet were long 
and cold. 

The winds blew and blustered through the rooms from 
all directions, so that the candles were put out, and the poor 
people in the house shivered with cold. But Nuncle knew 
how to put an end to that. The moment he had decided to 
spend the winter in Dorfli, he rented the old mansion again 
and often during the autumn had been coming down to the 
village to repair it whenever he had a few moments to 
spare. And about the middle of October he and Heidi had 
moved down. 

If you entered the house the back way, you came at once 
to an open room. One of its walls had quite fallen in, and 
the other was half gone. Above this space a bay window 
was still to be seen, but its glass had long been broken 
and matted ivy twined around it, climbing up to the roof, 
which was in great part still solid. This rear apartment 


WINTER IN THE HAMLET 255 

was beautifully arched, and there was no doubt but that 
it had once been a chapel. 

From this an opening, 'the door of which was lost, led 
directly into a large hall. Here and there handsome tiles 
were still remaining in the floor, but between them thick 
grass was growing. In this place, too, the walls were half 
fallen and great pieces of the roof were missing. In fact, 
if two huge pillars had not still held up parts of the ceiling, 
one would have expected it to fall down at any moment 
upon the heads of those who stood beneath it. 

Here Nuncle had put up a partition of boards and 
had covered the floor thickly with straw, for the goats 
were going to lodge in this old hall. 

Then there were all kinds of corridors, always half 
open to the weather, so that from one you could look 
straight at the sky, from another at the meadows and 
the path outside. But in the front part of the house, where 
the heavy oak door still hung firmly on its hinges, there 
was a. large room which was in good repair. Its four walls 
were still upright, its dark panels of wood unbroken, and 
in one corner stood a monstrous stove that reached almost 
to the ceiling, and on its white glazed tiles big blue pictures 
were painted. 

There were pictures on the tiles of old castles set on 
heights flanked by tall trees, and down below a huntsman 
was walking with his dogs. Then again there were scenes 
of a peaceful lake under wide-spreading oak trees, with a 
fisherman standing on the bank and holding his rod far out 
over the water. All about the stove was built a bench, so 
that one might sit down and study the pictures close at hand. 


256 


HEIDI 


Heidi fell in love with this spot at first sight. The very 
moment she entered the living room with her grandfather, 
she had run to the stove, sat down on the bench, and begun 
to gaze at the pictures. 

But when she had slipped along on the bench until she 
was in behind the stove, something new happened to attract 
her whole attention. In the fairly large space between the 
stove and the wall four boards had been set up, as if to form 
a bin for apples. But there were no apples in the bin. In 
their place stood Heidi’s bed, unmistakably put together 
just as it had been up on the mountain meadow—a high 
couch of hay, with the linen sheet and the sack to cover 
it. Heidi cried aloud— 

“O Grandfather, here’s my bedroom! And it’s beauti¬ 
ful! But where are you going to sleep?” 

“Your room must be right by the stove so that you 
don’t freeze,” Grandfather said. “But you can find mine, 
too, if you’ll hunt for it.” 

Heidi hopped across the broad room after Grandfather, 
who was on the other side, opening a door that led into a 
small cabinet where he had set up his bed. But then there 
was another door on beyond. Heidi pulled this quickly 
open and then stood still in her amazement, for she was 
looking into a kind of kitchen, the most enormous one she 
had ever dreamed of. 

There had been much work for Grandfather to do in 
this room. In fact, there was still a good deal to be done, 
for everywhere in the walls there were holes and wide 
cracks where the wind blew in. And this in spite of the 
fact that he had nailed so many of them shut with boards. 


WINTER IN THE HAMLET 


257 


It looked as though he had made a row of small cupboards 
all around the place. The old gentleman had also managed 
to fasten together the very ancient entrance door with wires 
and spikes so firmly that it could be tightly shut. And it 
was well that he could, for it looked out on the most ruined 
part of the house, where the rank weeds grew thickly and 
where whole swarms of beetles and lizards lived. 

The new mansion pleased Heidi very much, and by the 
following day when Peter came to see how they were get¬ 
ting along in it she had examined all the nooks and corners 
so thoroughly that she felt quite at home there and could 
show Peter everything. And she would not let him rest 
until he had seen every last one of the wonderful things 
which the new home contained. 

Heidi slept like a top in her corner by the stove. But, 
when morning came, she would always imagine she was 
walking up on the mountain and that she must open the 
door of the hut at once to find out why the fir trees were 
so quiet. She would think it might be because their boughs 
were weighted down by the deep, heavy snow which lay 
on them. 

So at first she had to look around her every morning 
for a long time before she could remember where she was. 
And the moment she did remember, she would feel a 
choking sensation and her heart would be heavy because 
she was not in her home on the mountain pasture. And 
then she would hear her grandfather outside talking with 
Little Swan and Little Bear. And, perhaps, the goats 
would bleat loud and happily, as if they were calling, 
“IPs fine out here, Heidi. Come right away !” 


258 


HEIDI 


Then she would decide that she was indeed at home, 
after all. She would spring gaily out of bed and hurry at 
the first possible moment to the big goat stable. But, 
after she had taken scarcely a step out of the house for 
several days, she finally said one morning— 

“I must be sure to go and call on Grandmother today. 
I must not leave her alone so long.” 

Grandfather, however, did not agree to this. 

“Let’s not talk about going today, or tomorrow, either, 
for that matter,” he said. “The pasture land is buried 
under six feet of snow, and it’s snowing this very min¬ 
ute. Peter himself is hardly strong enough to force his 
way through. Such a little creature as you, Heidi, would 
be snowed under the first thing and so covered up that 
your body would not be found before spring. You just be 
patient until it freezes hard, and then you can walk on top 
the crust as easy as anything.” 

To sit and wait like that made Heidi very wretched. 
But before long her days were so filled up with work that 
one day flew by after another without her realizing the 
fact. 

Each morning and each afternoon Heidi now spent at 
school, and she learned very rapidly whatever was given 
her to do. She hardly ever saw Peter in school, for he 
was absent a good deal. The teacher was a mild man and 
had little to say about this, except— 

“It seems as if Peter were not here again today. I 
wish he would come, for he needs to learn. But I suppose 
there’s a lot of snow up where he is, and he can’t get 
through.” 


WINTER IN THE HAMLET 


259 


It was surprising, though, how often Peter could 
force his way through the snow and call on Heidi the 
moment school was out, along about dark. 

After a few days the sun came out again and shone 
down upon the white earth. It would remain only a short 
while and would then disappear behind the mountains 
very early, as if it did not care for what it saw nearly as 
much as in the summer time, when everything was green 
and in blossom. In the evening, on the other hand, the 
moon rose very bright and big, to shine the whole night 
on the broad snow fields, and the next morning the whole 
mountain would glisten and gleam from top to bottom, 
like a crystal. 

On one such morning Peter jumped out of the window 
as he had done the day before, thinking to sink down into 
the deep snow. And then something happened that he 
did not expect. 

He made his jump all right, but, instead of sinking in, 
he took a bad tumble on the unexpectedly hard surface, 
and the next minute he was skidding a long way down the 
mountain, like a sled with no one to guide it. In great sur¬ 
prise, he finally managed to get his footing and stamped as 
hard as he could on the crust of snow, to make sure that 
there was no chance about what had just happened to 
him. And he quickly found out the truth. No matter 
how much he might stamp and hack with his heels, he 
could scarcely break out the smallest splinter of ice. The 
entire mountain meadow was frozen as hard as a rock. 

That suited Peter to a T. He knew this was the way 
things had to be so that Heidi could get up to his house. 


26 o 


HEIDI 


He hastily went back home, gulped down the milk which 
his mother had just set down on the table, tucked a slice 
of bread into his pocket, and said— 

“I’ve got to go to school/’ 

'That’s nice,” his mother said agreeably. “Be a good 
boy and study hard.” 

Peter crawled out of the window again, for the door 
was wedged in tight by the solid block of ice before 
it, got out his little sled, sat on it, and started down the 
mountain like a shot. 

Faster, ever faster he flew, like lightning! 

When he reached Dorfli in his flight and came to the 
road that leads on down to Mayenfeld, Peter held to his 
course without stopping, since he feared he might hurt 
himself badly and injure his sled if he should come to a 
sudden halt. So he stuck to the path until he reached 
a long strip of level ground, and there of course the 
sled stopped of its own accord. 

Then he climbed off and looked about him. The 
great force of his downward flight had carried him quite 
a way beyond Mayenfeld. He figured out that he was too 
late for school anyway, because the morning session had 
already begun and it would take him more than an hour 
to climb back up the mountain. So he did not need to 
hurry about the return trip. Nor did he. He came into 
Dorfli just as Heidi had got back home from school and 
was sitting down to dinner with her grandfather. Peter 
went in to see them. And, because he had one idea fixed 
in his mind so hard that he could not think of anything 
else, he started to speak right away. 


WINTER IN THE HAMLET 


261 

'‘She's got it at last," Peter burst out the moment he 
had thrust his head in the door. 

"Got what. What has she 'got,' General? That is 
a very warlike statement," said Nuncle. 

"The snow," Peter replied. 

"Oh, I know!" Heidi cried out gaily, for she at once 
understood what Peter was trying to say. "He means 
I can go up to Grandmother's now. But why didn't you 
come to school, you naughty? It was just as easy for 
you to slide down as it is for me to walk up." 

A little frown was on Heidi's face and her voice was 
suddenly disapproving, for she did not think it was right 
to stay away from school when you could go just as well 
as not. 

"Went too far on my sled before I could stop," Peter 
answered. "And then it was too late." 

"In the army they call that deserting," Nuncle said. 
"And they punish deserters by pulling their ears, did 
you know that ?" 

In sudden terror, Peter tried to pull down his cap. 
For nobody in the world scared him quite as much as 
Meadow Nuncle. 

"And besides, a commander-in-chief like yourself ought 
to be twice as ashamed to run away," Nuncle went on. 

Peter hung his head and felt almost like crying. 

“What would you think," the old gentleman asked, "if 
your goats should go on strike, refuse to follow you any 
longer, and not do what they ought to do? What would 
you do in that case, General ?" 

"Beat them," answered Peter shortly. 


262 


HEIDI 


“And suppose a boy acted like an unruly goat and got 
beaten a little, himself? What would you say to that?” 

“Fd say it served him right.” 

“Well, then, let me tell you something, Colonel of Goats! 
The very next time you go flying past the schoolhouse on 
your sled during school hours, you come right in here to me, 
sir, and get what is coming to you.” 

Then Peter knew well enough what Meadow Nuncle 
meant when he said a runaway boy was like an unruly goat. 
He was a little frightened by the old man’s words, and 
secretly he looked around in the corners to see if he could 
find any trace of the thing he used on his goats at such a 
time. 

But nowhere did there seem to be a rod, and the next 
words of Nuncle were very encouraging— 

“Come to dinner now and join in with us. Then 
Heidi can go up with you. You can bring her back this 
evening and find supper waiting for you here.” 

This made Peter quite happy. His face twisted into 
a shy grin. He obeyed without delay and sat down beside 
Heidi. But the child had already had enough to eat and 
couldn’t swallow another bite, she was so delighted at the 
thought of going to see Grandmother. She pushed the 
big potato and the toasted cheese that still stood on her 
plate over to Peter, whose dish had already been filled by 
Nuncle. So he had a regular mountain of food in front 
of him, and he was not backward in attacking it. 

Heidi ran to the cupboard and got the little cloak that 
Clara had sent her. And so she was ready, all wrapped 
warmly up in it and with its hood over her head, to start 


WINTER IN THE HAMLET 


263 


on the journey. She took her stand by Peter's chair, and 
no sooner had he thrust the last mouthful of food into his 
mouth than she said— 

“Comeon, now!” 

So off they started. The very first thing, Peter had to 
hear all the latest news about Schwanli and Barli. When 
they had been put in their new stall, neither of them would 
eat a blessed thing. The whole day they had just hung 
their heads and had not uttered a sound. And when she 
had asked Grandfather what was the matter, he told her 
that the goats felt exactly the same as she did in Frankfort, 
because they had never been off the mountain pasture 
before in all their lives. And Heidi added— 

“You just can’t imagine what a feeling that is, Peter.” 
Peter did not have a thing to say until they had almost 
come to the end of their journey. He seemed to be so busy 
thinking of something or other that he hardly heard what 
Heidi was chattering about. But just as they reached 
the hut, Peter stood still and said rather sulkily— 

“Well, then, I’d sooner go to school than go to Nuncle 
and get what he said was coming to me.” 

Heidi said she thought he was right and did what she 
could to encourage him in his good resolution. 

They found Peter’s mother alone in the living room 
bent over her sewing. She said that Grandmother had 
to spend the day in bed because it was so cold, and then, 
too, she was not feeling quite herself. That was a 
new idea for Heidi. She always pictured Grandmother 
in her place by the spinning wheel in the corner. She 
ran straight into the bedroom. All wrapped up in the 


264 


HEIDI 


gray shawl, the old lady was lying on her narrow bed with 
its thin coverings. 

The moment Grandmother heard Heidi's light foot¬ 
steps, she raised her head a little and said— 

“God be praised and thanked!" 

All through the autumn she had had a secret fear 
about which she had told no one, a fear that she could 
not get rid of, especially if Heidi did not come to visit 
her for a while. Peter had told her all about the strange 
gentleman who had come from Frankfort and was for¬ 
ever walking up to the pasture to talk with Heidi. And 
Grandmother of course could not be persuaded that the 
gentleman had not come to take Heidi away with him 
again. And even after the doctor had gone off alone, 
she was still afraid that somebody else would be sent 
from Frankfort to carry the child away. Heidi ran to 
the sick woman's bed and asked with much sympathy— 

“Are you dreadfully sick, Grandmother?" 

“Oh my, no!" the invalid said, soothingly, stroking 
Heidi's cheeks as she loved to do. “The cold has got into 
my old limbs a little, that's all." 

“Will you get well just the second it's warm again?" 
Heidi asked her eagerly. 

“I promise I will. And, if God is willing, even before 
warm weather, for I want to get back to my spinning. 
1 was thinking just this morning that I’d try getting up. 
But I'll be all right tomorrow, anyway." 

Grandmother spoke as she did because she had noticed 
from the tone of Heidi's voice that the child was worried. 
And her words did comfort the little visitor, who had 


WINTER IN THE HAMLET 265 

had quite a shock this first time that she had seen Grand¬ 
mother sick abed. She looked at the old lady in some 
surprise and then said— 

“In Frankfort they put on a shawl when they go out 
to walk. Did you think, Grandmother dear, that it was 
meant to go to bed in ?” 

“You see, Heidi,” the sick woman said, “I put the 
shawl around me in bed so as not to freeze. And I’m 
so glad to have it, because the bed covers are pretty thin.” 

“But, Grandmother dear,” Heidi went on to say, “your 
head lies down hill when it ought to lie the other way. 
That’s a funny bed, I must say.” 

“And don’t you suppose I know it is, child? But, you 
see, the pillow never was very thick, and I’ve been sleeping- 
on it for so many years that I’ve made it pretty flat.” 

Grandmother hunted around on her pillow to find a 
better place to rest her head, but without success. The old 
thing seemed as flat and hard as a board. 

“Oh,” cried Heidi, “if I had only asked Clara when 
I was in Frankfort to let me bring my bed home with me! 
Why, it had three great fat pillows, one on top of the 
other. And I couldn’t sleep, because my head was always 
sliding down to a flat place and then I had to put it back 
again so that I could sleep right. Could you sleep on so 
many pillows, Grandmother?” 

“Surely I could. That keeps you warm, and then you 
can breathe more easily when your head is high.” 

The old lady lifted her head from the pillow with some 
difficulty, as if to find a higher place for it. 

“But we won’t talk about that any more,” she said. “I 
18 


266 


HEIDI 


have so much to thank God for that other sick old ladies do 
not have. There are the nice rolls that come every day, 
and there is this fine, warm shawl, and then, besides, there’s 
you to come and see me. I wonder if you’ll read something 
to me again today, Heidi.” 

Heidi ran out of the room and soon came back with 
the old hymn book. Then she sought out one beautiful 
song after another, for by this time she knew them all well 
and enjoyed going through them once again. It had been 
many days since she had heard all these verses of which 
she was so fond. 

Grandmother lay beside her with folded hands, and 
there was now a happy smile on her face which had at 
first looked so troubled. She seemed to think that some 
great good fortune had happened to her. Suddenly Heidi 
stopped reading. 

“Grandmother, are you all well again?” she asked. 

“You have done me good, Heidi. I’ve been getting 
better all the time you’ve been reading to me. Finish 
the hymn, dear.” 

The child went on to the very end of the song. And 
when she was reading the last words, which speak of 
the light God pours into the sad eyes of men, Grand¬ 
mother recited them with her, and said them over yet 
again afterward. A look of joy came into her face. 

Heidi was happy to watch the change come in Grand¬ 
mother’s eyes. She suddenly remembered how the sun shone 
the day she returned home, and she cried out happily— 

“O Grandmother, I’ve already learned how one feels 
when he is going back home!” 


WINTER IN THE HAMLET 


267 


There was no answer, at least not in words, but Heidi 
could tell that the old lady had understood perfectly what 
she said, for the look that she so loved to see stayed in 
Grandmother’s face. 

After a short silence the child said again— 

“Now it’s growing dark and I must go down to The 
Hamlet. But I am glad that you are so much better.” 

Grandmother took Heidi’s hand in hers and held it 
fast. 

“Yes, I’m so happy again,” she smiled. “Even if I 
must keep to my bed, I am content. You see, until one has 
been through it himself, nobody knows how miserable 
it is to have to lie for days and days abed and all alone. 
Never to hear a word from another’s lips, never to see a 
single ray of light! Then it is that such gloomy thoughts 
pop into your head, and you often feel as if the light of day 
would never come again, and as if you just could not 
stand it another minute. But when you hear such words 
of promise as you have read to me, then it’s as if a light 
shines into your heart and all the darkness is driven 
away.” 

Grandmother drew her hand away. Heidi said good 
night to her and ran back to the other room. She made 
Peter scramble out after her through the little window 
as fast as he could, for it was now growing late. But, 
although, it was evening, the moon outside was up in the 
sky, and it shone as brightly on the white snow as if a 
new day were dawning. 

Peter got his sled ready, sat down on the front part 
of it, with Heidi close behind, and they shot off down 



268 


HEIDI 


the mountain pasture quite as if they were two birds 
hurtling through the air. 

Later on, that night, when Heidi was lying behind 
the stove on her fine high couch of hay, she thought about 
Grandmother again. She remembered how uncomfortable 
her head had been on its hard pillow. She heard again all 
that had been said, and saw the happy light the words of 
the hymn had kindled in the old face. 

And she could not help thinking that if Grandmother 
heard the words every day, then she would always feel 
more cheerful. But Heidi knew that a whole week, and 
perhaps two, must now pass by before she could go 
up for another visit. What could be done? It seemed so 
sad to Heidi that she kept thinking harder and harder 
how it might be so managed that Grandmother could 
hear her hymns every day. 

The way of help suddenly occurred to her. And she 
was so happily excited about it that it seemed as if she 
could not wait until daylight came so that she could carry 
out her plan. All at once she sat straight up in bed, because 
she had been so busy thinking she had forgotten to say 
her evening prayer to the dear God, and she did not want 
to let that slip by even once, no matter what happened. 

When she had ended her prayer for herself, and for 
Grandfather and Grandmother, she fell back on her soft 
hay and slept soundly and peacefully until broad daylight. 


CHAPTER V 
THE WINTER CONTINUES 

Next day Peter came down to school at just the 
right time. He brought his dinner with him in his bag, for 
that was what all the pupils did, except those that lived in 
the village. 

When the Dorfli children went home at noon, then the 
others who lived at a distance sat down on the classroom 
desks, planted their feet firmly on the seats in front of 
them, spread out on their knees the food that they had 
brought, and proceeded to eat. 

They had until one o'clock for play, and then school 
began again. When Peter had finished his school day, he 
went the moment it was over across to Nuncle's to pay a 
visit to Heidi. 

This day, when after school he had gone to Nuncle's 
and entered the big living room, Heidi ran to meet him, 
for he was just the one whom she had been waiting for. 

“Peter, I've got something to tell you," she called to 
him. 

“Out with it!" he said. 

“You've got to learn to read right away." 

“Haven't I been doing it ?" demanded Peter. 

“Oh, sort of, Peter! But I don't mean that kind of 
reading," Heidi said, excitedly. “I mean so that you can 
read by yourself." 

“No use!" the boy answered. 

269 


270 


HEIDI 


“Pshaw! Nobody believes you can’t learn, and I don’t 
either,” Heidi said firmly. “Grandmama in Frankfort 
knew it wasn’t true, and she told me so.” 

Peter was greatly astonished at this news. 

“I’ll teach you to read, if you’ll let me. I know how 
to do it fine,” Heidi went on to say. “You just have to 
learn first from me and then afterward you can read a 
hymn or two every day to Grandmother.” 

“Bet you I can’t. There’s no sense in it,” growled 
Peter. 

The way that Peter just wouldn’t try to do anything 
that was good and right, when she wanted him to so 
much, made Heidi very angry. Her eyes flashed as she 
stood in front of the boy and said, in a threatening 
manner— 

“All right then! I’ll tell you fast enough wha't’s going 
to happen to you if you get sulky and won’t learn. Didn’t 
I hear your mother herself tell you twice that you’d have 
to go to Frankfort and learn all sorts of things you didn’t 
want to? And I guess I’ve seen the school that they go 
to, the bad boys!” 

“Aw, how’d you ever see that ?” 

“Well, I did! When we were driving, Clara showed 
me the great big house. And they don’t stop going there 
when they’re only boys, but they keep on going, even 
after they’ve grown to be great tall men. I’ve seen them 
myself. And don’t you go thinking they only have one 
teacher, the way we have here, and a nice teacher, too. 
No, sir. Whole rows of them are always walking into 
the house, ever so many of them together, and they’re all 


THE WINTER CONTINUES 


271 

dressed in black, like when they go to church. And they 
have black hats on their heads as tall as that—■” 

Heidi showed the size of the hats by holding out her 
hand quite a way up from the floor. 

A shiver ran up Peter’s back and then down again. 

“And then you have to go in there among all those 
teachers,” Heidi went on to say, eagerly. ..“And when it 
comes your turn, you can’t read anything at all"and make 
mistakes in spelling. Then you just wait and see how 
those teachers will laugh at you! They say it’s even 
worse than when Tinette laughs at you, and you ought 
to see how it feels when she gets started!” 

“Oh, I’ll learn then,” Peter said, half whining and half 
angry. „ 

Heidi grew soft ~and gentle at once. 

“Now you’re a nice boy,” she said happily. “We’ll 
begin this minute.” She hurried Peter over to the table 
and got out all the necessary tools. 

In the big bundle that Clara had sent, there was a 
small book that pleased Heidi immensely. When she had 
been thinking things over in bed the night before, it sud¬ 
denly occurred to her she might use this book to teach 
Peter out of. It was an ABC book with rimes. 

Then they both sat down at the table, their heads bent 
over the little book, and the lesson hour began. 

Peter was made to spell out the first rime again and 
again, for Heidi wished him to know the sentence nicely 
and without any stumbling. At last, however, she said to 
him— 

“You don’t know it still, but I’ll read it over to you 


272 


HEIDI 


several times. After you know how it runs, then you can 
spell it out better. And Heidi read— 

If in A B C you fail, 

They will send you off to jail. 

“I won’t either,” said Peter, sulkily. 

“Won’t what?” Heidi asked him. 

“Won’t go to jail,” the boy answered. 

“Then you see to it that you know those three letters, 
and they won’t send you there,” Heidi told him. 

At that, Peter again set to work and repeated the three 
letters steadily, until Heidi said— 

“Now you know the first three.” 

But, because she had seen what an effect the rime 
made on Peter, she decided to read ahead a little for the 
lessons that were to follow. 

“You wait, and I’ll read you the other rimes,” she 
continued. “Then you’ll see what’s going to come next.” 

And then she began to read in a clear and distinct 
voice— 

D E F G you now must say, 

Or you’ll have bad luck all the day. 

If you forget H I J K, 

The same bad luck will come to stay. 

Now if at L and M you stick, 

You pay a fine and then feel sick. 

There’s something fine that waits for you 
When you’ve learned NOP and Q. 

And if at R S T you halt, 

Whatever happens is your fault. 



Peter went diligently to work to learn the letters 
































































































































































































THE WINTER CONTINUES 


273 


Here Heidi stopped a while, for Peter had become as 
still as a mouse, and she had to see what was the matter. 
All the threats and secret things that the rimes spoke of had 
taken such hold on his imagination that he could not move 
a muscle. He was staring at Heidi with eyes full of fear. 

That touched Heidi’s tender heart, and she said to 
soothe him— 

“Don’t be afraid, Peter. If you’ll only come in every 
afternoon and learn as well as you have today, then after a 
while you’ll know all the letters by heart and then nothing 
bad will happen to you. But you’ll have to come every day 
now, and not play hookey as you do in school. Even if it 
snows, it won’t do you any harm.” 

Peter promised to be good, for fear had made him quite 
tame and obedient. Then he started for home. 

In the days that followed he did exactly what Heidi 
told him to, and every afternoon he studied the other letters 
of the alphabet so eagerly that he soon knew the rimes 
by heart. 

Grandfather would often sit in the living room and 
listen to the lesson while he contentedly smoked his pipe. 
But, do what he would, he could not keep the corners of 
his mouth from twitching sometimes, he had such a great 
desire to laugh. 

As a reward for his great struggles Peter was usually 
asked to stay for supper with them. And he always felt 
that this more than paid him for the awful efforts that 
he had had to make to learn the day’s rime. 

So the winter days passed quickly by. Peter was 
regular in his attendance and soon began to make real 


274 


HEIDI 


progress with his letters. His worst moments were when 
he was fighting his rimes. 

Finally they got as far as the letter U. When Heidi 
read him this rime, he grew sulky and growled. 

If you mix up your U and V, 

You’ll go where you don’t want to be. 

■Til bet they couldn’t make me!” he muttered. 

But he learned his rimes thoroughly just the same. 
And it looked as if he really did believe someone might 
secretly take him by the collar and carry him off to the bad 
place where he did not want to go one little bit. 

On the following afternoon Heidi read— 

Whate’er you do, don’t stick at W, 

Or here’s the stick that’s sure to trouble you. 

Then Peter looked around him and said in triumph— 

“Aw, there isn’t any stick!” 

“Oh, isn’t there?” Heidi asked. “Don’t you know what 
Grandfather keeps in his big chest? It’s a stick as big 
around as my arm almost. And when he takes that out, 
you have to say. There’s the stick that’s sure to trouble 
me!’” 

Peter was well acquainted with the big hazel cane that 
Grandfather often carried when he went on a long tramp. 
So He immediately bent over his letter W and did his best 
to learn it. 

Next day after that he read— 

If you the letter X forget, 

Your place at the table won’t be set. 

Peter looked questioningly in the direction of the 


THE WINTER CONTINUES 


275 

cupboard where the bread and cheese were kept, and he 
demanded crossly— 

“Did I ever say that I would forget the letter X?” 

“That’s good! And now, as you’re not going to forget 
X , we can learn the next letter right away,” Heidi pro¬ 
posed. “Then tomorrow, we’ll have only one letter left to 
learn.” 

Peter did not see the sense of such hurrying. But 
Heidi had already begun to read— 

If you can’t learn the letter Y, 

We’ll scorn and shame you till you cry. 

When he heard this rime, there before Peter’s eyes 
stood all the teachers in Frankfort, with their tall black 
hats on their heads, and scorn and shame for him written 
in their faces. So he at once tackled Y, and did not let 
go of it until he knew it so well that he could close his 
eyes and still tell how it looked. 

The following day when he got to Heidi’s house, Peter 
was feeling a trifle puffed up, for you see there was only 
one letter left for him to work at. Heidi read him the rime— 
Send the bad boy who knows not Z 
To Hottentot Land across the sea! 

Peter said sneeringly, “I don’t suppose anybody knows 
where that place is.” 

“They do, too, Peter,” Heidi answered confidently. 
“My grandfather knows all about it. Just wait a minute 
and I’ll ask him right away where the Hottentots are. 
He’s only at the pastor’s house.” 

Pleidi had already jumped to her feet and was walking 
toward the door. Peter was badly scared. 


276 


HEIDI 


“Wait won’t you?” he howled in great alarm, for in 
his imagination he saw Meadow Nuncle and the pastor 
coming in. And he almost felt them seize him and start 
to bundle him straight off to the Hottentots since he 
couldn’t remember what the name of Z was. His cry 
of alarm halted Heidi before she reached the door. 

“Why, what’s the matter ?” she asked in amazement. 

“Nothing’s the matter,” Peter stammered. “Come 
back and I’ll learn it, honest!” 

But Heidi really wanted to know for her own infor¬ 
mation where the Hottentots lived and so was going to 
ask her grandfather about them, anyway. But Peter 
screamed at her so that she gave up her plan and came 
back. He had to work hard, however, to pay her back for 
her kindness. She not only made him repeat the letter Z 
over and over, until it stuck fast in his mind so he could 
never forget it, but she took up the subject of syllables. 
And on that afternoon Peter learned so much that he took 
a great step forward. 

In this manner the lessons went on day after day. 

The snow had grown soft again, and lately there had 
not been twenty-four hours without a fresh fall of snow, 
so for almost three weeks Heidi had been unable to go up to 
Grandmother’s. That made her all the more eager to get 
Peter to the point where he could take her place in reading 
the hymns. And so it came about that one evening Peter 
returned from Heidi’s and ran into the sitting room of 
his mother’s house, saying— 

“I can do it.” 

“What can you do, Peterli?” his mother asked. 


THE WINTER CONTINUES 


277 


“Read,” he answered. 

“Why, is that possible! Do you hear what He is saying, 
Grandmother?” Brigitte called. 

Yes, the old lady had heard Peter’s boast and was 
dumb with amazement, wondering how it all happened. 

“Heidi said I had to read a hymn to you,” Peter went 
on to report. 

His mother ran to take the book from its shelf, 
and Grandmother was pleased, because she had not heard 
the good words read for a long time. Peter sat down at 
the table and began to read, while his mother sat down 
beside him to listen. At the end of each verse she said 
in much surprise— 

“Who would have thought it possible ?” 

And Grandmother found nothing to add to Brigitte’s 
words, but she listened with great interest as Peter read 
to her one verse after another. 

The day after he had shown what he could do with the 
hymn book, it happened that Peter’s class in school had a 
reading lesson. When it came to Peter’s turn, the teacher 
said— 

“Peter, must I again pass you by, as I generally do, or 
do you wish once more to try to blunder through a line?” 

The boy’s only answer was to read three lines one right 
after the other without stopping. 

The teacher laid down his book. He stared at his 
pupil in silent amazement as if he had never seen his like. 
At last he said— 

“Peter, a miracle has happened to you. Although I 
almost worked my head off to teach you, you were never 


278 


HEIDI 


able to get even the alphabet straight. And now, the 
moment that I give you up as a bad job, much as I hate 
to do so, you come right out with a knowledge not alone 
of spelling, but of reading correctly and clearly. Who in 
these days can perform such miracles ?” 

“Heidi,” Peter answered. 

Much taken back by this simple remark of Peter’s, 
the teacher looked at Heidi. But she was sitting in her 
place looking so innocent that there seemed to be nothing 
unusual about her. So the teacher went on to say— 

“I have noticed other changes in you, Peter. You 
used to stay away from school a week at a time, yes, 
several weeks even. And now you are never absent. Who 
has brought about in you this great change for the better?” 

“Nuncle,” was the answer. 

The poor schoolmaster kept getting more surprised 
than ever. He looked from Peter to Heidi and from Heidi 
back to Peter. 

“Let us try it once more,” he then said, in order to 
make sure. And again the boy had to show his knowledge 
by reading the next three lines. But he got through all 
right. He had learned to read. 

The moment school was over, the teacher hastened to 
the pastor’s house to tell him what had happened and how 
much good Nuncle and Heidi were doing in the village. 

Peter now read a hymn at home every evening. In so 
far he obeyed Heidi, but not a step farther. For he never 
read a second hymn, and Grandmother never asked him to. 

His mother, Brigitte, never ceased to wonder that Peter 
had learned so well, and many an evening after the reading 


THE WINTER CONTINUES 


279 

was over and the boy was in bed, she would say to Grand¬ 
mother— 

“We just can't be happy enough that Peter has learned 
to read, in spite of everything. Now there's no telling 
what he may do." 

Then Grandmother would answer— 

“Oh, yes, it is nice of him to have learned. But, just 
the same, I shall be glad when the dear God sends His 
spring weather to us again, so that Heidi can come and see 
us. I always feel different about a hymn when she is read¬ 
ing it. There seems to be something left out when Peter 
is reading a verse, and I am always hunting to see what it 
is. And then I lose the thought of a hymn, and it doesn't 
go straight to my heart, the way it does when I am listening 
to Heidi's words." 

One reason for Grandmother's trouble was that Peter 
fixed the hymns up a little so they would not be too hard 
for him. When he saw a word coming that looked too long 
or too difficult, he simply left it out. He thought it would 
not really matter to Grandmother whether there were three 
or four words more or less in a line, or not. There were 
enough words left, anyway. 

So it came about that there were not many nouns left 
in a hymn when Peter got to reading it. 


CHAPTER VI 

NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS 

The month of May had come. 

From the highlands the waters of the brooks, swollen 
by the spring thawing, rushed down into the valley. The 
mountain was bathed in warm, bright sunshine. The 
last snow had melted away, and, awakened by the soft 
charm of the sunlight, the whole earth had grown green 
again. The bright eyes of the first flowers were peering 
forth from the new grass. 

The merry breezes of spring were blowing through the 
fir trees and shaking off their withered dark needles so 
that the bright green new needles might come out and give 
the trees a dress of fresh splendor. The old bird of prey 
flapped his wings in the blue air high above the world. 
And all around the hut on the mountain meadow the golden 
sunshine lay warm upon the ground and dried up the last 
wet places so that one could stretch himself at ease wher¬ 
ever he wished to be. 

Heidi was back on the mountain again. 

She ran here and there and did not know which spot 
she found the loveliest. 

At one time the wind tempted her to listen to its deep 
and mysterious notes as it roared down from the cliffs 
above. It would come nearer and grow in power. It would 
dart to the trees, shake them and toss them, and then the 
wind would seem to howl in loud delight. And Heidi, too, 


280 


NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS 281 


would cry out in her joy while she was being blown to and 
fro like a tender leaf. 

At another time she would run back to the sunny spot 
in front of the hut, sit down on the ground, and hunt 
about in the short grass to find out how many flower cups 
were open or nearly so. Such swarms of gnats and young 
beetles were hopping and crawling and dancing madly 
about in the sun that Heidi must be happy, too. She 
breathed in the sweet air of spring that seemed to rise 
from the freshly opened earth, and she felt that surely 
the mountain had never before been so beautiful. And 
the thousand little creatures liked it as well as she, for 
they were all humming and singing into Heidi's ears the 
chorus— 

“On the mountain, ah, on the mountain, ah!” 

From the shop behind the cottage came the frequent 
sounds of hammering and sawing. Heidi paused to listen 
to these familiar noises that she knew so well, for they had 
greeted her ears ever since she first came to live on the 
mountain meadow. Every now and then she just had to 
jump up and run to the shop to discover what Grandfather 
was doing. Before the door of the shop a fine new chair 
was standing all ready for use, and the old gentleman was 
skillfully at work on a second one. 

“Oh, I know what that's for," Heidi cried gaily. 

“Do you really?" Grandfather asked. 

“We'll need that when they come from Frankfort. 
This one's for Grandmama, and the one you're making is 
for Clara, and besides—oh, I suppose we'll have to have 
one more," Heidi went on to say, more slowly. “Or, 
19 


282 


HEIDI 


do you think, Grandfather, that perhaps Miss Rottenmeier 
won’t come, after all ? ,J 

“I can’t say, of course, but the safest thing is to have 
one ready so we can ask her to sit down if she does come.” 

Heidi looked doubtfully at the small wooden chairs, 
which were without arms and backs, wondering quietly 
how they would suit Miss Rottenmeier. After a while 
shaking her head doubtfully, she said— 

“Grandfather, I don’t believe she’d sit on them.” 

“Then we’ll ask her to sit on the sofa that has the 
beautiful green sod for a covering,” the old gentleman 
answered calmly. 

While Heidi was wondering where the beautiful 
sod covering might be, there suddenly came from above 
them the sound of whistling and calling. A rod swished 
through the air. Heidi knew at once what that meant. 
She darted away and was quickly surrounded by the goats 
that ran down to meet her. 

They must have felt as good as Heidi did to be up 
on the mountain again, for they jumped higher and bleated 
more fiercely than ever before. And they crowded Heidi 
one way and another in their eagerness to get close to her 
and tell her how glad they were. But Peter shoved them 
aside right and left, for he himself had a message to deliver 
to Heidi. When he had got close enough, he handed her 
a letter. 

“There you are,” he said, leaving Heidi to find out the 
rest for herself. She was very much surprised. 

“Why, did you find a letter for me in the pasture?” 
she asked in her amazement. 


NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS 283 


“No,” was Peter’s only answer. 

“Well, where did you find it then?” 

“In my dinner bag.” 

And he told the truth, but not all of it. The evening 
before, the postmaster in The Hamlet had given Peter 
the letter for Heidi. He had thrust it into his empty bag. 
That morning, when he was starting from home, he had put 
his cheese and bread in on top of it. To be sure, he had 
seen both Nuncle and Heidi when he had come for the goats. 
But not until he had finished eating his bread and cheese 
that noon, and was hunting around for the last crumbs 
in the bag, had he again come upon the forgotten letter. 

Heidi read the address on the envelope carefully. Then 
she ran back to the shop and, wild with joy, held the letter 
out to Grandfather. 

“It’s from Frankfort,” she cried happily, “from Clara! 
Shall I read it to you, right off, Grandfather?” 

The old gentleman said he wanted to hear it, and so, 
it seemed, did Peter, for he had followed Heidi and settled 
himself to listen. He leaned back against the doorpost so 
he could have a firm support for his body and devote all 
his attention to following the reading of the letter. 

It was a long letter, and here it is: 

“Dear Heidi— 

We have everything packed up and are going to 
start in two or three days, as soon as Papa leaves. But 
he is not coming with us, he has to go first to Paris. 

The doctor comes every day, and the second he’s 
in the house he calls, ‘All aboard for the mountains! ’ 
He just can’t wait until we get off. 


284 


HEIDI 


You can’t imagine what a nice time he had in your 
Alps. The whole winter he’s been coming to see us 
almost every day. He says he has to keep coming to 
my house so that he can talk it all over again. 

Then he sits down in my room and tells me of 
each day he spent with you and Grandfather on the 
mountain, and he talks of the cliffs and the flowers, and 
of the peaceful quiet up there above all the villages 
and streets, and of how fresh the pure air is. He 
often says, ‘Everybody must get well up there.’ 

He himself is very much changed from what he 
used to be, and now he seems quite young and happy 
again. Oh, how glad I shall be to see it all myself, to 
be with you on the mountain, and to be friends with 
Peter and the goats! 

First, I have to go to Ragaz for a six weeks’ stay. 
That is what Doctor orders. Then we are to live in 
Dorfli, and when the weather is nice I shall be carried 
up the mountain in my chair to spend the day with you. 

Grandmama’s coming along to stay with me. She 
is looking forward to seeing you again. But what do 
you think! Miss Rottenmeier does not want to come. 
Almost every day Grandmama asks her, ‘How about a 
journey to Switzerland, my worthy Rottenmeier? If 
you want to go along, don’t be backward in saying so.’ 
But she always thanks her politely and says that she 
would only be in the way. 

But I know what the housekeeper is thinking 
about. Sebastian told her such a terrible yarn about 
the mountain when he came back from his trip! He 


NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS 285 


said frightful cliffs frowned down on you and there 
was always danger of falling into ravines and pits, and 
the way up was so steep that you might fall off back¬ 
ward at any minute. He said he believed goats might 
climb up the trail, but no human being could do it with¬ 
out constant danger of his life. 

Miss Rottenmeier shuddered at what Sebastian said, 
and hasn’t been so fond of Swiss journeys since. 
Tinette, too, got scared and she isn’t coming. So we are 
coming by ourselves, just Grandmama and I. Sebastian 
travels as far as Ragaz with us, and then turns back 
again. 

Good-by, Heidi dear. Oh, I just can’t wait until I 
get to you! Grandmama sends you a thousand good 
wishes. 

Your true friend, 

Clara” 

When Peter had heard what the letter said, he sprang 
away from the doorpost and swung his rod right and left 
so crazily and angrily that fear seized all the goats and 
they fairly flew down the mountain. In fact, they took 
such enormous jumps as they had very rarely taken before. 

Peter tore after them, waving his rod in the air as if 
he was trying to work off his evil rage on some enemy 
that could not be seen. This enemy of Peter’s was his 
thought about the guests who were coming from Frank¬ 
fort, and just thinking about them filled his heart with 
bitterness. 

Heidi, on the other hand, was so full of joy and happi¬ 
ness the next day she just had to go down and pay the 


grandmother a visit. She was longing to tell her everything 
—who was coming from Frankfort and, especially, who 
was not coming. 

Grandmother, Heidi felt sure, would find her news of 
the greatest importance, for she knew all the people so 
well and always showed deep interest in anything that 
had to do with Heidi. So, early next afternoon, Heidi 
set out, for now she could again go alone to make her visits. 
At this season of the year the sun shone brightly again and 
remained a long time in the sky, and it was fun running 
down the mountain over the dry ground. Besides, the 
merry May wind roared along behind her and pushed her 
on at a great rate. 

Grandmother no longer lay abed. She was back again 
in her corner at the spinning wheel, and yet there was a look 
on her face as if her thoughts were not entirely happy ones. 
That look had been there since the evening before, and all 
through the night her bad thoughts had pursued her and 
kept her awake. For Peter had come home white with 
rage, and, so far as Grandmother could make out from his 
confused statements, a big crowd of people seemed to be 
coming from Frankfort to stay in the hut on the mountain 
meadow. Just what the meaning of this was, he did not 
know, but Grandmother could not stop thinking about it, 
and that is the reason her mind got so troubled that she 
could not sleep. 

Then Heidi ran in and went right over to the old lady. 
She sat down on the little footstool that was always there 
and began to pour forth her story with such eagerness 
that she got more and more excited by it. But then, all 


NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS 287 


at once, she broke off in the middle of a sentence and 
asked anxiously— 

“Why, Grandmother dear, whatever is the matter? 
Don’t you like to hear this even a little bit?” 

“Of course I do, Heidi. I am glad because you are 
going to enjoy it so,” she answered, and tried to seem 
somewhat happier. 

“Then, Grandmother, why can I see that you are 
worried about it? Are you afraid, perhaps, that Miss 
Rottenmeier will change her mind and come?” 

To tell the truth, Heidi herself was slightly worried 
on this account. 

“Oh, no, it’s nothing, I tell you!” Grandmother said 
to comfort her. “Let me hold your hand a while, dear, so 
that I can know you are by me still This visit will be a 
good thing for you, even if I don’t live to see the end of it.” 

“I don’t want any good thing that you won’t live 
through, dear Grandmother,” Heidi said very decidedly. 

In fact, she spoke so firmly, as if everything was 
settled, that a new fear came to rest in the old lady’s 
mind. She began to think the people were coming from 
Frankfort to take Heidi away again. For now that the 
child was well once more, surely they would want her back 
with them. 

This w r as what Grandmother feared the most. And 
yet she did not feel that she ought to mention the matter 
before Heidi. The child might be so sorry for her that 
she would refuse to go, and that must not be. She sought 
to find a way out of her difficulty, and she did not have to 
hunt long, for there was one thing she wanted always. 


288 


HEIDI 


“I tell you, Heidi/’ she said, after a short pause, 
“what will make me feel better and bring back my happy 
thoughts. Read me the hymn that begins, 'God is warder/ ” 

Heidi had come to know the old hymn book so well 
that she found at once the place that Grandmother wanted 
and read in a clear voice: 

God is warder, 

He will order 

Thy life as is best for thee. 

Billows foaming 
In the gloaming 
Daunt not thy security. 

When she had finished, the old lady said— 

“Yes, that is just what I wanted to hear.” 

And it did seem as if her heart was lighter, for the 
look of sorrow had now disappeared from her face. Heidi 
glanced at her thoughtfully a moment before she asked— 

“Grandmother, the word 'best’ in the hymn means 
that everything is healed and made whole again, doesn’t 
it?” 

f ‘Yes, that’s just what it means,” the old lady said, 
nodding her head. “And because it’s the dear God who 
promises to make things whole, you can count on its turn¬ 
ing out all right, no matter how dark the future looks. 
Read it once more to me, Heidi, so we can learn the words 
by heart and never forget them.” 

Heidi read the closing lines of the hymn once, twice, 
three times, for God’s promise of safety pleased her very 
much. 

When it grew dark and Heidi again was strolling up 
the mountain side, one star after another appeared in the 


NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS 289 


sky. They gleamed and sparkled down at her, exactly 
as if each one of them wished to send a ray of happiness 
to her heart. And almost every instant Heidi had to stop 
and look up at them, for they seemed to be twinkling at 
her more brightly from every part of the sky. So she 
called up to them— 

“I know what you want to tell me, you dear stars! 
It is because God knows so well what is wholesome and 
best for us that we can be so happy and walk so safely.” 

Then the eyes of every star blinked and twinkled and 
winked at Heidi all the way up to the hut. And there she 
found Grandfather standing and looking up at the sky, 
for he said the stars had not shone so brightly since he 
could remember. 

And in this month of May not only the nights were 
brighter and clearer than they had been for many years, 
but the days were, too. Grandfather would often look out 
of the door mornings and be surprised to notice how the 
sun rose in a cloudless sky as gloriously as it had set on 
the previous evening. And he would say repeatedly— 

“It’s an uncommonly sunny year. It will give sap to 
the grass and herbs. Look out, General Peter, or your 
springers will have such good fodder that they’ll get the 
best of you!” 

When Peter heard that, he swung his rod swishing 
through the air. And the look on his face said plainly 
enough— 

“Huh! I’d just like to see them try it.” 

So May sped by with its budding and greening and June 
came with its warmer sun and with the long light days that 


290 


HEIDI 


tempted every flower on the mountain side to put forth 
blossoms. They shone and glowed round about on all 
sides, and the air was filled with their sweet odors. 

And this second month of June was drawing to its close 
when one morning Heidi, who had already finished her 
work about the house, came running out of the hut. She 
was intending to go quickly over to the fir trees and then 
to climb a little higher up, to see if the great bush of 
centauries was yet in bloom, for these flowers were the 
prettiest sight in the world when the sun shone through 
them. But just as soon as Heidi started to run around the 
hut, she suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs. Nuncle 
stepped out of his shop, for he knew something unusual 
had happened. 

“O Grandfather/’ the child cried, beside herself with 
joy, “come here and look!” 

The old gentleman came at her call, and his eyes 
followed the outstretched arm of the excited child. 

A strange procession, such as the mountain meadow 
had never seen before, was winding up the trail. First 
came two men carrying an open basket chair, in which a 
young girl was sitting wrapped up in many shawls. Then 
came a horse on which a stately lady was sitting, looking 
about her interestedly and having a lively chat with the 
young guide who walked at her side. 

A little way behind there followed a wheel chair pushed 
along by still another young man. The chair was empty, 
because the sick girl who really belonged in it could be 
carried up the mountain trail more safely in a basket seat. 
Last of all came a porter, who had the hamper on his back 


NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS 291 


piled so high with rugs and shawls and furs that they 
reached high above his head. 

'There they are!” called Heidi, jumping up and down 
with happiness. 

And there was no longer any doubt who it was that 
Heidi stood and watched. Nearer and nearer they came, 
and finally, after what seemed years of waiting, they were 
there. 

The porters set the basket chair on the ground. Heidi 
ran to it, and the two children hugged one another joy¬ 
fully. Then Grandmama came up on her horse and dis¬ 
mounted. Heidi ran to her in turn and was greeted with 
a tender kiss. And then the old lady saw Meadow Nuncle, 
who had stepped forward to bid her welcome. There was 
no stiffness in the way they spoke to each, other, for, 
because of Heidi, they felt as if they had been friends 
for years. 

Hardly had the words of welcome been spoken, how¬ 
ever, when Grandmama said with much enthusiasm— 

"My dear Nuncle, what a beautiful estate you have up 
here! Who in the world would have imagined it ? Many 
a king would envy you the possession of such a place. And 
see how my Heidi is blooming, like a June rosebud!” 

The old lady drew the child to her and stroked the red 
cheeks. And then she turned to her own little grand¬ 
daughter. 

"What a glory there is all about us! What do you 

say, Clara?” 

The sick child was looking around her as if enchanted. 
She had never dreamed of anything like this in all her life. 


292 


HEIDI 


“How beautiful it is here!” she cried again and again. 
“I never imagined it. O Grandmama, Fd like to stay here 
always.” 

In the mean time Nuncle had pushed up the wheel 
chair, had taken some shawls out of the hamper, and made 
a soft seat with them. Then he went up to the basket 
chair. 

“If we put the little girl into her chair now, she prob¬ 
ably will rest more easily,” he said. “The seat in the other 
one is too hard for comfort.” 

He did not wait for anyone to help him, but at once 
lifted weak Clara up in his strong arms and set her very 
gently down in the soft place he had prepared. Then he 
spread the rugs across her knees and wrapped up her feet 
on the cushion as comfortably as if he had done nothing 
all his life but look after invalids. Grandmama looked 
at him as if she could not believe her eyes. 

“My dear Nuncle,” she exclaimed, “if I knew where 
you learned to care for the sick, Fd have all the nurses 
sent to the same place for their hospital course. Who 
taught you how?” 

Nuncle smiled a little. 

“It comes more from experience, I suppose, than from 
study,” he answered. 

But, in spite of the smile, there was a trace of sadness 
in his eyes. From out the long-forgotten days of his past, 
Nuncle’s mind again turned to the suffering face of a man 
who used to sit wrapped up in a chair, just like Clara, and 
who was so badly crippled that he could scarcely move a 
muscle. 


NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS 293 

The dream figure from the past was Nuncle’s army 
captain, whom he had found lying on the ground, after a 
fierce battle in Sicily, and had carried on his back from the 
field. And from that time on the captain wanted none but 
Nuncle as a nurse, and never let him out of his sight until 
death at last put an end to his great suffering. The face 
of his sick friend again appeared to Nuncle and seemed 
to say that it was now his duty to nurse poor Clara and to 
show her all the comforting care that he understood .so 
well. 

The sky stretched dark blue and cloudless away over 
the hut and the pines and the lofty cliffs that rose high into 
the air, gray and shimmering. Clara could not tire of 
gazing at the view, her heart was so stirred by it. 

a O Heidi, I wish I could go around with you!” she cried 
out longingly. “Around the corner of the hut, and under 
the fir trees! And then I could visit every place that Fve 
heard of so much but have never seen.” 

Just then Heidi made a great effort. And, sure enough, 
she succeeded in wheeling the chair across the dry sward 
until it was beneath the firs. Here she halted. 

Clara had never before seen anything like these tall old 
pine trees, whose long and widespread boughs grew down 
to the ground and became larger and thicker there. And 
Grandmama, too, who had followed the children, stood and 
gazed at the trees in wonderment. She hardly knew which 
to think more lovely, the rustling summits so full of foliage 
or the straight strong tree trunks like pillars. The mighty 
branches told their own story of the long row of years that 
they had been standing up there, while down below in the 


294 


HEIDI 


valley men had come and gone and everything had changed. 
But the trees were as they were in the beginning. 

After a while Heidi pushed the wheel chair up to the 
goat stable and opened wide its small door, so that Clara 
could see all of it. There really was not much inside, as 
the occupants of the stall were not at home. Clara called, 
with much regret— 

“O Grandmama, if I could only wait for Schwanli and 
Barli and all the other goats, and Peter! I can never see 
them at all if we have to start home as early as you said. 
And that would be such a shame!” 

“Dear child,” said her grandmama, “let’s just enjoy all 
the lovely things that are here, and not mind so much 
about what isn’t.” She followed after the chair, which 
Heidi was pushing. 

“Oh, see the flowers!” Clara cried a moment later. 
“Whole bushes of delicate red flowers, and then all the little 
swaying bluebells! I wish I could get out and pick some of 
them.” 

Heidi ran off at once and brought back a large bunch 
of them. 

“Oh, but they’re nothing at all, Clara,” she said, as she 
laid the flowers in her friend’s lap. “You just ought to go 
with us up to the pasture, and then you’d see something, I 
tell you. In one spot all together there are ever so many 
bushes of red centauries and lots more bluebells than there 
are here, and, besides, so many bright yellow wild roses 
that the whole field looks as though it was pure gold. And 
then there are some flowers with big leaves and a big name, 
too, heliopsis. That’s what Grandfather calls them, and he 


NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS 


295 


is always right, but Peter says they are only sun's eyes. 
Oh, and then there are the brown ones, too—you know 
the ones I mean, with little round tops, which smell so 
good. My, but it's fine in that place! When you once 
sit down there, you never, never want to get up again, it's 
so lovely!” 

As she went on to tell about all this, Heidi's eyes 
sparkled with longing to see it again. And Clara caught 
the flame of her friend's excitement, until in her own soft 
blue eyes one could see reflected every bit of Heidi's 
enthusiam. 

“O Grandmama, do you suppose I could go up there? 
Do you think I could be carried so high? ,, the sick girl 
asked eagerly. “O Heidi, if I could only go climbing on 
the mountain with you, wherever I wanted to!" 

“I'll push you if you want me to," Heidi said quietly. 

And, to show how easy it would be for her, she ran 
around with the chair so fast that it almost got away from 
her hands and flew down the mountain. But Grandfather 
was standing close enough to catch the chair at just the 
right moment. 

While they had been chatting under the fir trees, Grand¬ 
father had not been idle. The table and several chairs were 
now placed by the bench before the hut, and everything 
was ready for them to eat their dinner out of doors. Their 
food was still steaming in the kettle over the fire inside 
the hut, or toasting on the long fork over the coals. But 
it was not long before Grandfather had carried everything 
out to the table and the whole company had sat happily 
down to its meal. 


296 


HEIDI 


Grandmama was quite enthusiastic about this dining 
room of theirs, from which one could see far down into the 
valley and beyond the mountains into the blue distance. A 
gentle wind fanned the faces of the table companions and 
whispered so charmingly in the fir trees that one might 
have thought it music especially ordered for the feast. 

“I never had such an experience before/’ cried Grand¬ 
mama. “It is just splendid! But what do I see?” she 
added in a tone of the greatest surprise. “I really do 
believe, Clara, that you have started on a second piece of 
cheese.” 

There was a second piece of shining yellow cheese on 
Clara’s slice of bread, sure enough! 

“O Grandmama, that tastes so good! It’s better than 
the whole hotel dinner in Ragaz, ” Clara cried, taking a 
big bite of the appetizing food. 

“Eat away, all you can!” Meadow Nuncle said, well 
pleased. “Our mountain winds are a great help to the 
appetite, even if the cooking isn’t very good.” 

So the happy meal went on. 

Grandmama and Meadow Nuncle had liked each other 
from the very first, and they kept the talk going in a most 
lively manner. They seemed to have the same thoughts 
about men and things and the way the world was wagging. 
You would really have thought they had been close friends 
for years. A long time had passed when suddenly Grand¬ 
mama looked toward the west and said— 

“We must be starting along, Clara. The sun will be 
setting before we know it. It’s time for the people to be 
coming back with the horse and the basket chair.” 


NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS 


297 


At these words a sad look stole into Clara’s face, which 
until that moment had been so merry, and she begged 
eagerly— 

“O Granny, just an hour or two more! Why, we 
haven’t even seen the cottage yet and Heidi’s bed and 
everything. I wish the day was ten hours longer.” 

“Well, it isn’t,” Grandmama said, “so I guess we’ll 
have to get along the best we can.” 

But she wished to see the hut. And so they all got up 
from the table, and Nuncle steered the wheel chair with 
steady hand to the door But when they got there the 
chair would go no farther, for it was too broad to pass 
through the opening. Nuncle paused only a moment when 
he saw this new difficulty. He raised Clara into his strong 
arms and carried her into the house. 

Grandmama walked all around, looking carefully at 
the way it was furnished, and she seemed to be very merry 
at sight of some of the household objects, all of which were 
so clean and tidy and so well arranged. 

“That’s your bed up there, Heidi, I suppose,” she said. 

And before anyone realized what she was doing, she 
had quickly climbed the ladder that led to the loft. She 
walked over to the window and peered through it. 

“My, how nice it smells up here!” she cried. “It must 
be a very healthful place to sleep.” 

By this time Grandfather had climbed up, too, with 
Clara still in his arms. And Heidi followed right on his 
heels. 

They stood grouped around Heidi’s bed that was so 
neatly made up, and Grandmama, lost in pleasant thoughts, 
20 


298 


HEIDI 


was gazing straight before her, taking deep breaths of 
the sweet odors of the hay. Clara couldn’t think of any¬ 
thing finer than Heidi’s bedroom. 

“What a jolly room you have, Heidi!” she exclaimed. 
“From your bed you can look straight at the sky, and 
everything has such a nice smell, and just hear the fir trees 
rustling out there! It’s the sweetest, dearest room in all 
the world!” 

Nuncle cast a quick look at Grandmama. 

“I have a fine idea,” he said, “if only your grandmama 
will listen to it and not say no. How would it be to keep 
this little girl up here on the mountain for a while? It 
might be just the thing for her. Why, we could make an 
entirely separate bed, soft as down, from all the shawls 
and rugs that you’ve brought! And Grandmama need 
not worry about the care her little girl will get, for I’ll look 
after her myself.” 

Clara and Heidi burst into a duet of happy shouts. You 
would have thought them two birds just free from their 
cage. As for Grandmama, her face lighted up with joy. 

“My dear Nuncle, you are a splendid fellow!” she said. 
“What do you think I just had in mind? I was saying to 
myself, if you please, Wouldn’t life up here be the finest 
thing in the world for our child! But who would look 
out for her? And what a nuisance her care would be for 
the one that nursed her!’ ” 

“Nonsense! No trouble at all!” 

“And here you are suggesting it yourself, quite as if it 
were an everyday matter. Oh, how grateful to you I am, 
dear Nuncle! I thank you from the bottom of my heart.” 


NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS 299 


In her excitement the old lady shook Nuncle’s hand 
time and time again, and he seemed more than delighted 
to see her so glad. 

Nuncle became very busy at once. 

He carried Clara back to her chair in front of the hut, 
and Heidi tagged along after them, feeling that she could 
not jump high enough to show her joy at the unexpected 
turn of events. Then Nuncle picked up all the shawls and 
rugs lined with fur and piled them in his arms. Smiling 
with satisfaction, he said— 

“It is lucky that Lady Grandmama provided enough 
coverings for a winter campaign. We shall need them all- ,> 
“My dear Nuncle,” replied the old lady, briskly, “I was 
taught that an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of 
cure. A traveler in your mountains is indeed lucky to 
escape high winds and storms and cloudbursts. And we 
had such luck and are grateful for it. But still my wraps 
are going to be of good use to you, are they not?” 

While the old people were having this talk, they nad 
been on their way back up to the hayloft. A moment later, 
they were spreading the shawls across the bed, one at a 
time. Finally there were so many of them on the couch 
that it looked like a small fortress. 

“Now just let me see a single wisp of hay sticking 
through!” Grandmama said defiantly. 

She pressed down again hard with her hands on all 
sides of the bed, but the soft mass of rugs made such a 
thick wall that nothing really could stick through it. 

Entirely satisfied with her work, Grandmama then 
climbed down the ladder and went out to see her two 


300 


HEIDI 


little wards. They were sitting close together, their faces 
were shining with joy, and they were planning what they 
would do from morning to night all the time that Clara 
stayed on the mountain. 

But how long would this visit be? That was now the 
burning question that must be laid before Grandmama at 
once. She answered by saying that Nuncle would know 
best about that, and they must ask him. And, as he 
happened to come along at just that moment, the question 
was put to him. He said he thought they ought to be able 
to tell in four weeks whether the mountain air was doing 
good to the little patient or not. And then the children 
really did scream in their delight, for they had not dared 
even to hope for such a long time together. 

Soon after this the porters with their basket chair and 
the young guide with his horse were seen marching up the 
trail. The porters were sent right back again, for there 
was no longer any need of their services. 

When Grandmama was on the point of mounting her 
horse, Clara called up to her happily— 

“O Grandmama, this is no real good-by, for you’ll be 
coming to visit us every so often to see what we’re doing. 
And that’s going to be great fun, isn’t it, Heidi?” 

Heidi’s joys that day had been heaped upon her with 
so generous a hand that she no longer knew how to find 
words for things. So she said yes by jumping as high 
as she could in the air. 

Then Grandmama mounted the trustworthy beast 
of burden. Nuncle at once seized the horse’s bridle rein 
and started to lead it carefully down the steep path. The 


NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS 301 


old lady tried to persuade him not to bother about her 
safety; she said there was not the slightest need of his doing 
so. But Nuncle declared he wouldn’t be satisfied unless he 
kept her company at least as far as Dorfli, because the 
mountain was so steep that horseback riding was not with¬ 
out its dangers. 

Grandmama decided, now that she was to be alone, not 
to take lodgings in The Hamlet, for she would be too lone¬ 
some there. She preferred to go all the way back to Ragaz, 
and from there she could take her Alpine journey again 
whenever she wished to do so. 

Long before Nuncle had returned, Peter came running 
along with his goats. When the animals saw Heidi, they 
all rushed in her direction, and in an instant Clara in her 
chair, together with Heidi, was surrounded by the herd. 
And one goat would keep crowding and shoving to see over 
the head of his fellow until he was called by name to come 
forward and be introduced to the invalid. 

So it happened that, almost before she realized it, Clara 
had struck up the much-longed-for friendship with little 
Snowhopper, merry Goldfinch, Grandfather’s clean pair of 
goats, and all the rest, including Big Turk. While this was 
taking place, however, Peter hung off to one side and cast 
occasional frowning looks at happy Clara. 

As the children both called out to him a friendly “Good 
night, Peter!” he did not answer, but slashed at the air 
with his rod so angrily that you might think he wanted to 
cut it in two. Then he started to run down the trail, his 
followers after him. 

There was one last thing to come, to be the end of all 


302 


HEIDI 


the lovely things that Clara had seen that day on the 
mountain. 

When at last she was lying on the broad, soft bed up in 
the loft, with Heidi close beside her, she looked through 
the open round window right into the heart of the twinkling 
stars and cried out, quite carried away by their beauty— 

“O Heidi, look! It feels as if we were being driven 
straight to heaven in a high wagon.” 

“Doesn't it? And, Clara, do you know why the stars 
are so happy and keep winking at us so?” 

“No. How should I know that ? What do you mean ? ” 
demanded Clara. 

“Why, the stars up there in the sky see how nicely the 
dear God arranges everything for people. No one has to 
worry or to feel unsafe, because he knows everything will 
turn out for the best. And that makes the stars so happy 
that they wink to us to be joyful, too. But you know, Clara, 
we mustn't forget to pray, and ask the dear God to think of 
us while he's looking after others so nicely. And then we 
can always feel so safe, too, and never be afraid of any¬ 
thing.” 

At that, the children popped up in bed again and 
said their prayers for the night. Then Heidi put her head 
on her little round arm and was asleep in a second. But 
Clara lay awake a long time, because she had never before 
known anything half so wonderful as this place to sleep 
in in the starlight. 

Besides, she had hardly ever seen the stars, for she 
had never been outside the house at night, and inside the 
thick shades had been pulled down long before the stars 


NEWS FROM DISTANT FRIENDS 303 


appeared. But now, every time she started to close her 
eyes, she had to open them just for once, to make sure the 
two big bright stars were still shining through the window 
and to see if they were really winking in that funny way 
that Heidi had spoken of. And they always were. So Clara 
just could not look enough at their sparkling and gleam¬ 
ing, until at last her eyelids closed of their own weight, 
and in her dreams she was still seeing them, the twin stars 
that were so large and brilliant. 


CHAPTER VII 

FURTHER HAPPENINGS ON THE MOUNTAIN 

The sun was just rising up behind the cliffs and casting 
its golden rays across the hut and down over the valley. 

Meadow Nuncle had been watching with quiet eager¬ 
ness, as he did every morning, the thin mists lift from the 
heights and the valleys round about him and the whole 
countryside come forth from its twilight shadows and 
awake to a new day. 

Clearer and brighter grew the light clouds of early 
morning, until the sun had quite appeared to bathe cliffs 
and forests in its golden glory. 

Then Nuncle walked back to the cottage and climbed 
the frail ladder. Clara had just opened wide her eyes 
and was staring in the greatest amazement at the bright 
sunbeams that streamed in through the round window 
to dance and gleam on her bed. She had forgotten where 
she was and did not recognize the scene about her. But 
then she noticed Heidi sleeping beside her and heard the 
kindly voice of Grandfather asking— 

“Sleep well? You’re not tired, are you?” 

Clara said that she was not tired at all—in fact, she 
had not once moved after she had got to sleep. This 
pleased the old gentleman, and he set to work at once to 
care for the invalid so skillfully that you might have 
imagined he had no other occupation in life than to attend 
to the needs of sick children. 


304 


HAPPENINGS ON THE MOUNTAIN 305 

By this time Heidi was also awake, and surprised to 
find that Grandfather had got her little friend dressed 
and up in his arms and all ready to carry downstairs. She 
did not want to be left behind. So she dressed herself 
as quick as lightning and flew down the ladder and out 
of doors, but there she halted in great surprise to find 
what her Grandfather had been doing. 

When the children were safely tucked away in the 
loft the evening before, he had planned a way of bringing 
the broad wheel chair inside the house. The door of the 
hut was too narrow to admit the chair, and so he had to 
hit upon some other scheme. All at once an idea came to 
him. He took off two wide boards from the back wall of 
the shop and so made a large opening. The chair was 
wheeled in through this, and then the boards were put 
back in their places but not nailed fast. 

Heidi appeared just as Grandfather was settling Clara 
in her chair. He had taken off the boards and was going 
to wheel the child out of the shop into the morning sun¬ 
shine. When he had done this, he left the chair standing 
in the middle of the lawn and went back to the goat shed. 
Heidi ran to Clara’s side. 

The cool breeze blew about the faces of the children, 
and a spicy smell from the fir trees drifted down to them 
on each new breath of wind. Clara filled her lungs with it 
and leaned back in her chair with a feeling of such health 
as she had never known before. 

In all her life she had never drawn in deep breaths of 
fresh morning air under the open sky, and at this moment 
the pure mountain breeze was blowing about her so cool 


306 


HEIDI 


and refreshing that every touch of it brought new enjoy¬ 
ment. And, above all else, there was the clear, sweet 
sunshine which was so lovely and warm upon her hands 
and upon the dry lawn at her feet. Clara had not imagined 
that it could be like this up on the mountain. 

“O Heidi, I wish I could stay up here with you for ever 
and ever!” she cried. She twisted happily in her chair 
first one way and then another, so as not to miss a bit of 
the air and sunshine. 

“Now you see it’s just as I said it was,” Heidi answered, 
smiling. “Grandfather’s place on the mountain meadow 
is the nicest spot in the world.” 

At that moment Grandfather came from the stable 
toward the children, carrying in his hands two bowlfuls 
of frothy milk as white as snow. He handed one to Clara, 
the other to Heidi. 

“That is good for a little girl I know,” he said, nodding 
at Clara. “It’s Schwanli’s milk and makes people strong. 
To your good health! Drink hearty!” 

Clara had never drunk goat’s milk before, so she had 
to snifif at it first just a bit, to see what it was like. But 
when she saw that it tasted so good that Heidi drank her 
whole bowlful down without pausing for breath, she waited 
no longer. She started and drank and drank until there 
was not a single drop left. For, honestly, it was so sweet 
and nourishing you’d have thought there was sugar and 
cinnamon in it. 

“Tomorrow we’ll have two apiece,” Grandfather said. 
He chuckled with pleasure to see how closely Clara had 
followed Heidi’s lead. 


HAPPENINGS ON THE MOUNTAIN 307 

Peter now appeared with his troop, and while Heidi 
was receiving her morning greetings from all the pushing 
goats Nuncle took Peter off to one side so he could hear the 
message that he had for him. For the animals were bleat¬ 
ing so, each one trying to express his love and joy more 
loudly than the others, now that Heidi was in their midst, 
that you could hardly hear yourself think. 

“Now you just mind what I say,” Nuncle warned Peter. 
“From now on, let Schwanli go wherever she wants. Her 
instinct teaches her where the best grazing is, so if she 
wants to climb ’way up, you follow along. The pasture 
she finds will be good for the others, too. Even if she 
starts to go much higher than usual, don’t hold her back— 
do you hear ? She knows better than you do where to go, 
and it won’t hurt you any to do a little work for once in 
your life. We want Schwanli to have the best food, so 
her milk is perfect. Why are you looking over yonder, 
as if you wanted to swallow somebody? No one’s going to 
hurt you. Come, be off with you, and don’t forget what 
I have said! ” 

Peter always did just what Nuncle told him, so he began 
his march without delay. But you could see that he 
was thinking about something, for he kept turning his head 
around and rolling his eyes. The goats followed his lead 
and shoved Heidi along a little way with them. This 
suited Peter all right. 

“You must come with me,” he called to her in the 
middle of the flock, threateningly. “You’ve got to come 
if I have to follow Schwanli wherever she goes.” 

“No, I can’t,” Heidi answered, “and not again for a 


308 


HEIDI 


long time, either, for all the time Clara stays with us. But 
Grandfather said that perhaps some time we could go up 
together.” 

With these words, Heidi twisted her way out of the 
herd and ran back to Clara. And then Peter shook his 
fists in such hate toward the sick girl’s chair that the 
goats sprang away from him. But he ran after them 
quickly and, without stopping, kept on until he was out 
of sight, for he was afraid that Nuncle might have seen 
his threatening gestures. And he was just as glad not to 
know what the old gentleman might say about all that 
shaking of fists. 

Clara and Heidi had so many plans for that day that 
they did not know where to start. Heidi suggested that 
they first write a letter to Grandmama, for they had agreed 
to write one every day. The old lady had not been quite 
sure how Clara would like such a long visit up on the moun¬ 
tain, or whether it would be really good for her, and so 
she had made the children promise to write as often as 
they could and tell her everything that was going on. In 
that way she could tell whenever she might be needed on 
the mountain meadow, and until that time she could quietly 
remain where she was. 

“Do we have to go inside to write?” Clara asked. 

She was quite ready to send the report to Grandmama, 
but she did not want to go in the house, it was so lovely 
out of doors. 

Heidi knew how that could be managed. She ran 
quickly into the cottage and soon came back, loaded down 
with her school things and the low three-legged chair. 


HAPPENINGS ON THE MOUNTAIN 309 


Then she set her reading book and her writing tablet on 
Clara’s lap, so she could rest her hand upon them, and she 
sat down on the stool by the bench. And then they both 
began their story for Grandmama. 

But Clara could not write more than a sentence with¬ 
out laying down her pencil and gazing about her. It was 
too lovely for words! The breeze was now not so cool as 
it had been. It fanned their faces gently and murmured in 
the fir trees above them. Gay little insects were humming 
and darting about in the pure air, and a great stillness 
brooded over the broad, sunlit fields. Tall cliffs of rock 
looked down big and immovable, and deep peace rested on 
the valley below them. Only now and then was the still¬ 
ness broken by the glad cry of some shepherd lad and by the 
soft echoes repeated by the crags round about. 

The morning passed away like a dream, and the first 
thing the children knew, Grandfather was bringing their 
steaming bowls out to them, for he said they must stay out 
in the air with the little girl as long as there was a ray of 
light left in the sky. So their dinner was got ready in front 
of the cottage, just as on the previous day, and eaten with 
enjoyment. 

After the meal Heidi wheeled Clara in her chair over 
under the pines, because they had decided to spend the 
afternoon in the fine shade there and tell each other every¬ 
thing that had happened since Heidi had left Frankfort. 
Even though there had been nothing during that time at 
all out of the usual run, still Clara had all kinds of little 
things to tell about the people who lived in the Sesemann 
house and whom Heidi had come to know so well. 


3io 


HEIDI 


So the children sat together under the old pine trees. 
And the more eagerly they talked, the louder became the 
twittering of the birds on the branches above them, for 
all the chattering down below interested the birds a great 
deal and they wished to take part in it. Again the time 
fled quickly by, and evening was there before they knew 
it, and the goat army was rushing down upon them, with 
their leader close behind, a frown on his brow and anger 
in his face. 

“Good night, Peter,” Heidi called to him, when she saw 
he had made up his mind not to stop. 

“Good night, Peter,” Clara also shouted pleasantly. 

But he did not return their greeting and, with a grunt 
of anger, drove the goats on down ahead of him. 

Now when Clara saw Grandfather lead dainty Schwanli 
off to the stable to be milked, she was at once seized with 
such a strong desire to have the spicy milk that she could 
scarcely wait until it was brought to her. She was as much 
astonished as anybody at her appetite. 

“Isn’t it funny, Heidi?” she asked. “As far back as 
I can remember, I have eaten only when I had to, and 
everything I put in my mouth tasted like cod-liver oil. A 
thousand times I have thought to myself, 'Oh, if I never 
had to eat another bite!’ and now it’s all I can do to wait 
until Grandfather gets here with the milk.” 

“Yes, I know what that feeling is,” Heidi answered 
sympathetically, for she was remembering the days in 
Frankfort when everything stuck in her throat and 
wouldn’t go down. But Clara could not understand what 
had happened to her. As long as she had lived, she had not 


HAPPENINGS ON THE MOUNTAIN 311 

spent a single day in the open air until now, and in air 
as pure and bracing as that of the mountain. 

When Grandfather appeared with their bowls, Clara 
lost no time in seizing hers and thanking him for it. 
Then she drank the milk down in long, eager swallows 
and finished ahead of Heidi. 

“Could I have a little more? ,, she asked, holding out 
her bowl to Grandfather. 

He nodded, with a pleased smile, took Heidi’s bowl, too, 
and went back to the hut. When he appeared later, he was 
bringing with each bowl a thick cover, which was, however, 
made of different material from the ordinary top. In fact 
it looked somewhat like bread. 

That afternoon Grandfather had taken a stroll over to 
green Maiensass, to the herdman’s cottage where sweet 
yellow butter was churned. He had brought back from 
there a fine round pat of it. Then he had taken two nice 
slices of bread and spread the sweet butter on top of 
them, fine and thick. They were for the children’s supper. 
The two girls both took such big bites into the delicious 
slices that Grandfather stood and watched what was going 
to happen, he was so pleased. 

Later on, when Clara was looking up again at the 
twinkling stars, she could not keep awake, but imitated 
Heidi. Her eyes closed almost immediately, and a sound, 
healthful sleep overtook her, such as she had never known 
before. 

In the same delightful way the next day passed, and 
then the next one, and finally there came a great surprise 
for the children. 


312 


HEIDI 


Two strong porters came climbing up the mountain, 
each carrying on his shoulders feather mattresses already 
arranged in beds, both covered over exactly alike with a 
white spread that was spotless and brand new. The men 
also had a letter from Grandmama to deliver. 

The letter said that the beds were for Heidi and Clara, 
so they could now get rid of the hay couches and from that 
time on sleep in a regular bed. In winter Heidi could take 
one of them down to Dorfli with her, but the other was 
always to stay up on the mountain so Clara might find it 
when she came back there. Then Grandmama praised 
the children for their nice long letters to her and begged 
them to keep writing her one every day so that she could 
have all the fun they had, just as if she were there with 
them. 

Grandfather had gone into the house, thrown Heidi's 
couch of hay over on the heap of straw, and put away 
her coverings. Then he returned in order to help the men 
carry the beds up into the loft. Then he shoved them 
close together, so that from both pillows the view out the 
window might be the same, for he knew the joy the 
children took in the light that shone in there morning and 
evening. 

Meanwhile Grandmama stayed down in the summer 
resort Ragaz and was very much pleased with the good 
news that came to her day by day from the mountain. 

Clara's delight in her new manner of life kept daily 
increasing, and she could not speak highly enough of the 
kindness and loving care given her by Grandfather. She 
wrote of how funny and gay Heidi was, a lot more so than 


HAPPENINGS ON THE MOUNTAIN 313 

she had ever been in Frankfort, and of how each morning 
when Clara woke up her first thought was— 

“Praise be to God, I am still on the mountain!” 

Such news as this was delightful to Grandmama. She 
decided therefore that, as everything was going on so well, 
she would put ofif her visit to the mountain a little longer. 
And she was not sorry to do this, because the ride up the 
steep trail and down again was rather difficult for her 
Grandfather must have taken quite an unusual interest 
in the recovery of his small ward, for not a day passed that 
he did not think of something new that might help her to 
gain strength. Every afternoon he now went climbing 
farther and farther up the cliffs, and from each walk he 
brought back a small parcel which sweetened the air for 
a long distance like spicy pinks and thyme. And when 
the goats came home in the evening, they would all begin 
to bleat and jump and try to crowd through the door of the 
shed where the bundle lay, for they recognized its smell. 

But Nuncle had closed the door tightly, for he did not 
propose to scale the high cliffs where the rare plants grew 
just so the herd of goats could have a fine meal without 
effort. No, indeed. The herbs, one and all, were for 
Schwanli and were meant to make her milk richer. And 
it was plain to see how much good this unusual care did 
Little Swan, because she now tossed her head more actively 
than ever, and her eyes fairly flashed fire. 

And so it got to be three weeks from the day that Clara 
first reached the mountain. For several days past, when¬ 
ever Grandfather carried her down in the morning to be 
placed in her chair, he would be sure to ask— 

21 


314 


HEIDI 


“Isn’t this little girl going to try just once to stand on 
her feet for a moment ?” 

Each time Clara would try to do as he wanted her to, 
but would cry out after a moment, “Oh, it hurts too badly!” 
Then she would cling to him for support, but next time 
Grandfather would see that she tried just a little longer. 

There had not been so fine a summer on the mountain 
for years. Every day the shining sun moved across a cloud¬ 
less sky, and all the little flowers opened their cups wide so 
the sun could drink in their beauty and their sweetness. 
And in the late afternoon it cast its purple and pink lights 
across the rocky horns of the mountain peaks and the 
glacier, and then sank into a flaming sea of gold. 

Heidi told her friend Clara about this sight again and 
again, for it could be seen in all its glory only if you were 
up in the pasture. And she was never tired of telling 
about the place on the slope far above, where there grew 
large masses of gleaming golden wild roses. And she 
described the bluebells, of which there were so many that 
one would think the grass itself had turned blue. And then, 
near by, were the great bushes of brown mace flowers 
that had so sweet a smell one wanted to stay on the ground 
close to them and never go away again. 

It was while Heidi had been seated beneath the firs, 
talking with Clara about the flowers up there and the even¬ 
ing sun and the shining crags, that she was suddenly over¬ 
come by such a longing to see the place again, she had to 
jump to her feet and run to Grandfather, who was in the 
shop at his carving bench. 

“O Grandfather,” she called out before she had even 


HAPPENINGS ON THE MOUNTAIN 315 


reached his side, "won't you take us up to the pasture 
tomorrow? It is just perfectly lovely up there now.” 

'That suits me all right,” the old gentleman said with 
a nod. "But then the little girl must do me a favor in 
return. She must try this evening to stand on her feet 
just as long as she can.” 

Shouting for joy, Heidi ran back with her news to 
Clara, and the invalid promised to stand on her feet just as 
often as Grandfather wanted her to. For she was very 
eager to take this trip up to the beautiful goat pasture. The 
moment she saw Peter coming down that evening, Heidi 
was so full of happiness that she called out to him— 

"Listen, Peter! We're coming up with you tomorrow 
to spend the whole day.” 

Peter's only answer was a growl, like that of an angry 
bear. In his rage he struck at Distelfink, who, innocent 
of any wrongdoing, was trotting at his side. But the agile 
Goldfinch had seen his movement in time and jumped out 
of reach over Schneehoppli's back. So Peter's blow fell 
on the empty air. 

Clara and Heidi went to bed that night filled with the 
greatest expectations. They were so occupied with their 
plans for the next day that they made up their minds to 
stay awake all night so they could keep talking until it 
was time to get up. But hardly had their heads touched 
the pillows when their chatter ceased. And Clara saw 
before her in a dream a great big field all sky-blue, it was 
so thickly sown with just bluebells, while Heidi heard the 
bird of prey scream down from the heights, "Come on! 
Come on! ” 


CHAPTER VIII 
THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 

Very early the next morning Nuncle came out of the 
hut and looked about him to see what the weather was 
going to be. 

On the high mountain peaks rested a ruddy golden light. 
A tool wind was beginning to stir the branches of the pine 
trees. The sun was about to rise. 

For a while the old man stood and watched with earnest 
attention as first the lofty summits and then the green hills 
caught the golden gleam. Then the dark shadows rolled 
softly back from the valley, and a rosy light streamed into 
it, until suddenly heights and depths alike were bathed in 
the full glory of day. The sun had risen. 

Nuncle brought the wheel chair out of the shop, put it 
in front of the hut so that it would be ready for the journey, 
and then entered the house to tell the children how fine the 
morning was and that it was time to get up. 

Just then Peter came climbing up the path. His goats 
did not follow him so trustingly as usual this time, nor 
were they so close behind, beside, or yet before him. 
They kept darting away from him in one direction or 
another, because he was striking at them without any 
excuse whatever, like a madman. And when he hit any¬ 
where, it hurt badly. 

Poor Peter had reached the depths of vexation and 
bitterness. 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 


317 


For weeks he had not had Heidi all alone to himself, as 
he once had. By the time he arrived in the morning the 
strange child had always been carried out in her chair and 
Heidi was paying attention to her. When he came down 
again in the evening, the wheel chair with its occupant 
was still standing under the fir trees, and Heidi was busied 
with her guest. 

She had not gone up to the pasture the whole summer 
long, and now today she was planning to go, but with the 
wheel chair and the strange girl in it, and she would give up 
all her time to her. Peter could see how it would turn out, 
and this is what had brought his secret rage to the boiling 
point. His eye now lighted on the chair as it stood there 
so proudly on its rollers. And he frowned at it, as if it 
were an enemy that had already done him all kinds of 
harm and was plotting new mischief for today. 

He looked quickly about him. Everything was quiet; 
there was not a single person in sight. Then, like a savage, 
he rushed at the chair, grasped it with his hands, and gave 
it such a violent shove toward the slope of the mountain 
that the chair fairly flew away from his angry clutch and 
immediately disappeared over the edge of the lawn. 

Now he had done it! 

As if borne along on wings, Peter rushed off up the 
mountain meadow, and never once stopped for breath 
until he had reached a great blackberry bush behind which 
he could hide. For he did not in the least wish to have 
Nuncle spy him. 

But he did wish to see what became of the chair, and 
the bush on a spur of the mountain was well situated for 


3 i 8 


HEIDI 


this purpose. Peter, himself half hidden, could look down 
on the meadow and still be able to duck out of sight in a 
hurry if Nuncle should appear. He peered down from his 
hiding place, and what a sight met his eyes! 

Far beneath him his enemy was rushing to destruction, 
constantly driven on by stronger forces. It turned one 
somersault after another. It sprang high into the air 
and crashed down to earth again. It rolled over and over 
as it hurried on to ruin. 

Parts of it were already flying in all directions—its 
legs, its back, its padded cushions were flying through the 
air. Peter was unable to restrain his joy at this glorious 
sight, and he clicked his heels together and jumped as high 
as he could. He laughed aloud, he stamped his feet bliss¬ 
fully, he danced around in circles. But he always returned 
to the same spot to take a new look down the slope. And 
then he had to laugh afresh and dance anew for joy. Peter 
was fairly out of his head with delight at the destruction 
of his enemy, for he felt sure only good would come of it. 

Now, he was certain, the strange girl would have to 
go away, for she would have no means of getting from one 
place to another. Heidi would be left alone again and 
would come to the pasture with him. She would be on the 
lookout for him morning and evening when he came along, 
and everything would again be just as it used to be. But 
Peter had not yet had time to consider what happens to 
one who has done a wicked deed, nor had he thought of 
the consequences that follow. 

Heidi was the first to come out of the hut and run to the 
shop. Behind her came Grandfather, with Clara in his arms. 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 


319 


The cloor of the shop stood wide open, both boards had been 
laid aside, and it was as light as day in the farthest corner. 
Heidi peered all about the shop, then darted around the 
corner of it, and then returned with a look of great amaze¬ 
ment in her face. Just then Grandfather came along. 

“What’s up?” he asked. “Did you wheel the chair 
away?” 

“Why, I’m looking for it everywhere, Grandfather,” 
the child answered, still keeping up her search. “You 
told me it was standing beside the door of the shop.” 

Meanwhile the wind had increased in force. It was 
making the door rattle and, at just that moment, slammed 
it back with a crash against the wall of the shop. 

“Grandfather, the wind did it! ” cried Heidi, and her 
eyes blazed at the thought/ “Oh, if the old chair’s been 
blown down into Dorfli, it will be a long time before we 
can get it back, and then too late for us to go at all.” 

“If it has rolled down there, it will never come back,” 
said Grandfather as he walked around the shop and looked 
down the mountain, “for it will be in a hundred pieces. 
But it’s funny how it happened,” he continued, looking 
back at the course the chair must have taken around the 
edge of the hut in order to get started downhill. 

“Oh, what a shame!” Clara wailed. “Now we can’t 
go at all, and perhaps we never can. Oh, I’ll have to go 
home if I haven’t any chair. It’s just too bad!” 

But Heidi looked up at her grandfather trustfully. 

“Grandfather, you’ll find some way so it won’t be as bad 
as Clara thinks, won’t you?” she asked. “And so she 
won’t even have to go home ?” 


320 


HEIDI 


“This once we’ll go up to the pasture, just as we decided 
to,” the old man said. “Afterward we’ll see what can be 
done.” 

The children shouted for joy. 

He went back into the hut, brought out a large share of 
all the shawls, laid them beside the cottage in the sunniest 
spot that he could find, and set Clara down on them. 
Then he fetched the morning’s milk for the children and 
led Schwanli and Barli out in front of the shed. 

“I wonder why that rascal is such a long time coming 
up?” Nuncle said to himself, for Peter’s signaling 
whistle had not yet sounded. Then he took Clara up on 
one arm and the shawls on the other. 

“Well, let’s start!” he said. “The goats can come with 
us.” 

That arrangement just suited Heidi. 

With one arm around Little Swan’s neck and the other 
around Little Bear’s, she strolled along beside her grand¬ 
father. And the goats were so overjoyed to be with 
Heidi again that between them 'they almost squeezed her to 
death as proof of their affection. 

When they had got up to the pasture grounds, all at 
once they saw the goats standing around in small groups 
here and there on the slopes, peacefully grazing, while 
Peter in their midst was stretched out full length upon the 
ground. 

“Next time you pass us by, I’ll attend to you, you 
booby!” Nuncle hailed him. “What did you mean by that ?” 

“Nobody was up yet,” Peter answered. At the sound 
of that well-known voice he had jumped up in a hurry. 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 


321 

“Did you see any sign of a chair ?” Nuncle asked again. 

“Of what?” Peter called back surlily. 

Nuncle said nothing further. He spread his shawls on 
the sunny slope, set Clara down on them, and asked her 
if she was comfortable. 

“Just as cozy as Pd be in my chair,” she said grate¬ 
fully. “And here I am in the nicest place in the world. 
O Heidi, it is so beautiful here!” she cried, as she drank 
in the splendor of the view unrolled before her. 

Grandfather was now ready to go back. He told 
them to have a good time together and when it was noon 
then Heidi could get out their dinner, which was packed 
in the bag that he had left over in the shade. Peter would 
get their milk when they wanted it, as much as they could 
drink, but Heidi must remember to see that it came from 
Schwanli. Grandfather promised to come back at dusk. He 
was now going down to see what had become of the chair. 

The sky was deep blue and, whichever way you looked, 
not a single cloud was to be seen in it anywhere. 

The great glacier across from them sparkled as if 
with the light of countless thousands of gold and silver 
stars. The grim horns of the cliffs, tall and massive, stood 
in the place that had been theirs through the ages and 
gazed solemnly down into the valley. The big bird of prey 
swept high above them in the haze, and the breeze from the 
mountains came across the heights and refreshed the sun¬ 
lit summits with its cool breath. 

The children were as happy as they could be. From 
time to time a little goat would come to lie down beside 
them a while. Soft-hearted Schneehoppli was their most 


322 


HEIDI 


frequent visitor. She would rest her small head on Heidi’s 
lap and stay in that position until some one of her fellows 
came to drive her away. Clara thus learned to know the 
goats so well that she could tell them apart quite easily, 
for she saw that each, face differed from the others, and 
each animal had its own peculiar ways. 

They soon felt that they could trust in Clara, and so 
they would come up close and rub their heads against her 
shoulder, which was an unfailing sign of friendship and 
affection. 

Several hours sped by in this fashion. And then Heidi 
decided that she would like to go over to the place where 
all the flowers were, just to see if they were open still and 
as lovely as they had been the year before. 

Of course, she knew that when evening came and 
Grandfather was back they could take Clara with them, 
but by that time perhaps the flowers would have closed 
their eyes. Heidi’s longing grew until she could no longer 
resist it. A little timidly she asked— 

'Would you mind so very much, Clara, if I should 
run away for just a twinkling and leave you all alone? 
I’m so anxious to see how the flowers are getting along. 
But wait—” 

Heidi had had a sudden thought. She darted off a little 
way and pulled up a few fine bunches of green plants. The 
moment Schneehoppli saw this, she came running toward 
Heidi, and the child put her arms around the goat’s neck 
and brought her to Clara. 

"There! Now you won’t be left alone, after all,” she 
said. And she pushed Schneehoppli up a little closer to 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 


323 


Clara. The goat seemed to know what was wanted and 
lay down. Then Heidi threw the green stuff she had 
gathered into Clara’s lap, and the invalid said very happily 
that Heidi could now go and have a good look at the 
dowers, as she was glad to be left alone with the goat. 
That would be quite a new experience for her. 

So Heidi ran off on her errand and Clara began to 
hold out her plants to Schneehoppli, a leaf or two at a 
time, and the young goat was so trustful that she nestled 
close to her new friend and slowly nibbled at the leaves 
in her hand. It was plain to be seen how contented she 
was, for she gave herself up quietly and peacefully to 
Clara’s care. When she was with the herd and no one 
came to her rescue, she always had to suffer from the 
attacks of the larger and stronger goats. 

It seemed wonderfully good to Clara to be able to sit 
this way off on a mountain, all alone except for the little 
tame goat that looked up at her so helplessly. She felt a 
great desire to be her own master and now and then to be 
able to help someone else, instead of always having to 
rely upon the services of others. 

Many thoughts which she had never had before came 
flooding into Clara’s mind, and with them a new desire 
to go on living in this world full of beautiful sunshine 
and to do things that would make others happy, just as 
she was now gladdening Schneehoppli. A strange joy 
entered her heart, and it suddenly seemed to her as if all 
the things she had ever known might be more beautiful 
and different from what she expected. And in her 
newly won feeling of happiness she was so contented that 


324 


HEIDI 


she threw her arms around the little goat’s neck and 
cried— 

“O little Snowhopper, how lovely it is up here! If I 
just never had to leave you again!” 

Meanwhile Heidi had reached the spot where the 
flowers bloomed. She cried out with joy. The whole 
mountain side lay covered with shining gold! 

There were the gleaming rockroses. Thick purplish 
clusters of bluebells were swaying in the gentle breeze. 
A strong, spicy smell enveloped the sunlit slope, as if 
most precious cups of balsam had been poured out upon 
the ground. All this sweet odor, however, came from 
the small, brown mace flowers that reared their round 
tops shyly from among the yellow trefoil. Heidi stood 
still and gazed, drinking in deep draughts of the sweet 
air. Suddenly she turned and ran back to Clara, all out 
of breath with excitement. 

“Oh, you’ve just got to come!” she called out, even 
before she reached Clara’s side. “They are so lovely, 
and everything there is so beautiful, and perhaps it won’t 
be that way hours from now. Don’t you think perhaps 
I might carry you?” 

Clara looked at her excited friend with no little sur¬ 
prise, but she shook her head. 

“What are you thinking of, Heidi? Of course you 
couldn’t. Why, you’re a lot smaller than I am! But I do 
wish I could go.” 

Then Heidi looked around on every side, trying to find 
some way out of their difficulty. And a new plan was 
slowly forming in her determined young mind. 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 


325 


There above the children, where he had been stretched 
out at full length on the grass, sat Mr. Peter staring down 
at them. He had been sitting that way for hours, gazing 
fixedly at them as if he could not understand what he saw. 
Had he not destroyed the hateful old wheel chair to make 
an end of the strange guest and to keep her from going 
anywhere at all? And yet, only a short time after he 
had sent the chair off down the slope, she had appeared 
up there and was perched beside Heidi right in front of 
him. It couldn’t have happened, and still it was true all 
right, for there she was whenever he cared to look at her. 

And now he saw Heidi’s eyes upturned to him. 

“Come down a minute, Peter!” she called very firmly. 

“Won’t do it,” he yelled back. 

“You will, too; you have to,” Heidi said, threateningly. 
“Come ahead! I can’t do it alone and you’ve got to help. 
Hurry up!” 

“Won’t either,” was the surly answer. 

Then Heidi ran a little way up the mountain toward 
Peter and confronted him with eyes aflame. She cried— 

“If you don’t come here to me this minute, you Peter, 
I’ll do something to you that you won’t like at all. You 
just see if I don’t!” 

These words made Peter tremble, and he was seized 
with a great fear. He had done a wicked deed which must 
be kept secret at any cost. Until this very minute the 
thought of his naughty act had made him happy. But now 
Heidi was talking as if she knew all about it and was going 
to tell her grandfather on him. And Peter was more afraid 
of that old man than anyone else alive. Suppose he found 


326 


HEIDI 


out what had happened to the chair! Peter’s blood ran cold 
to think of it. He got up and went to meet Heidi. 

“Fm coming, but then you must promise not to do it,” 
he said. And his fright made him so tame that Heidi 
felt quite sorry for him. 

“All right, then I won’t do it now,” she assured him. 
“You come with me. There’s nothing to make you afraid 
in what I want of you.” 

When they got to Clara, Heidi showed what was to 
be done. Peter was to take hold of Clara by one arm, Heidi 
by the other, to lift her to her feet. And they did that 
all right, but then came the hardest thing. The invalid, 
of course, could not stand by herself, and how were they 
going to hold her so that she could walk along? Heidi 
was too short to support the sick girl on her arm. 

“You must put your arm very firmly around my neck, 
Clara—like that. And you must take Peter’s arm and 
lean on it hard, then we can move you along.” 

The young goat herd had never given any girl his 
arm before. Clara took hold of it properly, but he let it 
hang stiffly down by his side, like a long pole. 

“Oh, that’s not the way, Peter,” Heidi said disgustedly. 
“You must make a circle of your arm and then she can 
put her hand through it and press as hard as she wants 
to. Whatever you do, don’t let go, and then we’re all 
ready for the march.” 

This plan was tried, but nothing much came of it. 
Clara was fairly heavy, and the team of helpers was too 
unlike in size. She had to reach up on one side and down 
on the other, and that made her support very uncertain. 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 


327 


Clara tried to advance first one foot and then the other, 
but found she could not bear her weight on either and so 
drew them painfully back again. 

“J us t plant them right down hard,” Heidi suggested. 
“And then you’ll find it won’t hurt so much.” 

“Do you think so?” Clara asked timidly. 

But she did as she was told and tried to take a couple 
of steps along the ground. This made her cry out with 
pain. After a moment she raised a foot and set it down 
again more gently. 

“Why, that didn’t hurt half so badly,” she said gaily. 

“Try it once more,” Heidi urged eagerly. 

Clara obeyed. Then she tried her foot several times. 
And suddenly she screamed— 

“O Heidi, look at me! I can do it! I can take one step 
right after another!” 

Then Heidi started to shout much more loudly than her 
friend,- 

“Honest true? Really, can you take steps like that? 
Why, you can! You’re walking, all by yourself, you’re 
walking! If Grandfather could only see you!” 

It seemed as if there was no end to Heidi’s great joy. 

To be sure, Clara was leaning hard on both of them. 
But, with each step she took, she gained a little more 
confidence, there was no question about it. Heidi was 
almost bursting with delight. 

“Oh, now we can go to the pasture together every 
day!” she exclaimed. “And walk wherever we want to 
on the mountain. And all the rest of your life you can 
go around like me, and be strong, and never be shoved in a 


328 


HEIDI 


chair again. Oh, isn’t that the very nicest thing that 
could have happened to us! ” 

Clara said yes to that with her whole heart. Surely 
she knew no greater piece of luck in all the world than 
to be healthy and walk about like other people, and not 
be condemned to spend her days miserably in an invalid’s 
chair. 

The slope where the flowers bloomed was not far 
away. They could already see the gold roses gleaming 
in the sunlight. Then they came to the tufts of blue¬ 
bells, where the sunny earth showed through so invitingly. 

“Can’t we sit down here?” Clara asked. 

That was just what Heidi wanted to do. So the 
children settled down among the flowers, and Clara was 
more happy than you would ever guess, for this was the 
first time that she had ever sat on the bare ground. And 
she found it warm and dry. 

All about her she saw the waving tops of the bluebells, 
the glinting gold roses, the red centauries. And every¬ 
where was the sweet odor of the brown mace flowers and 
spicy prunellas. It was lovely beyond words! 

Heidi, too, who was seated beside her, felt that it had 
never before been quite so beautiful up there, and she really 
could not herself have told why there was so fierce a joy 
in her heart that she wanted to cry it aloud to the sky. 
And then suddenly she remembered that Clara had been 
made whole again, and that was the greatest happiness 
that could be added to all this worldly beauty. 

Clara had grown quiet. She was quite carried away 
with delight at the scene before her, and even more at 



Clara sat silent , overcome with the enchantment of it all 










THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 


329 


the thought of all that the future held for her, now that 
she had passed through the remarkable experience of her 
cure. Her heart was so full that there was hardly room 
in it for this new happiness. And the sunshine and the 
sweet odor of the flowers were doing their part in giving 
her an overpowering sense of joy. So she was speechless. 

Nor was Peter inclined to talk. In the midst of this 
field of flowers he lay quiet and motionless, half asleep. 

The wind blew softly and gently from behind the wall 
of cliffs and rustled overhead in the bushes. Now and 
then Heidi would bestir herself and hunt for some new 
spot, for there always seemed to be a place more beauti¬ 
ful than the last one, where the flowers grew in a thicker 
tangle, where the air was sweeter as it was stirred about 
by the breeze. And everywhere she had to settle down for 
a moment. 

So fled the hours away. 

The sun was long past midday when a company of 
goats came walking most seriously up the flowery slope. 

It was not their usual pasturage ground. They were 
never brought to it, because they did not care to graze on 
the flowers. Their troop looked more like an embassy, 
with Distelfink at its head. The goats had apparently 
come in search of their companions who had neglected 
them so long and, against all rules of the game, had 
stayed by themselves so completely. For, you see, the 
goats knew very well what the time of day was. 

The moment Distelfink discovered the whereabouts of 
the three deserters, he set up a loud bleating, and the 
others joined at once in the chorus and trotted along 
22 


* 






THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 


329 


the thought of all that the future held for her, now that 
she had passed through the remarkable experience of her 
cure. Her heart was so full that there was hardly room 
in it for this new happiness. And the sunshine and the 
sweet odor of the flowers were doing their part in giving 
her an overpowering sense of joy. So she was speechless. 

Nor was Peter inclined to talk. In the midst of this 
field of flowers he lay quiet and motionless, half asleep. 

The wind blew softly and gently from behind the wall 
of cliffs and rustled overhead in the bushes. Now and 
then Heidi would bestir herself and hunt for some new 
spot, for there always seemed to be a place more beauti¬ 
ful than the last one, where the flowers grew in a thicker 
tangle, where the air was sweeter as it was stirred about 
by the breeze. And everywhere she had to settle down for 
a moment. 

So fled the hours away. 

The sun was long past midday when a company of 
goats came walking most seriously up the flowery slope. 

It was not their usual pasturage ground. They were 
never brought to it, because they did not care to graze on 
the flowers. Their troop looked more like an embassy, 
with Distelfink at its head. The goats had apparently 
come in search of their companions who had neglected 
them so long and, against all rules of the game, had 
stayed by themselves so completely. For, you see, the 
goats knew very well what the time of day was. 

The moment Distelfink discovered the whereabouts of 
the three deserters, he set up a loud bleating, and the 
others joined at once in the chorus and trotted along 
22 


* 


330 


HEIDI 


making an awful hubbub. That woke Peter from his 
dreams. But he had to rub his eyes hard to find out where 
he was, for in his dream the wheel chair had again been 
standing before the hut, upholstered in red and uninjured. 
And even now, when he was wide awake, he could still see 
in the sunshine the gleam of the gilt nails around the 
cushions. But these he soon discovered to be only the 
glittering yellow flowers in the ground about him. 

At that moment there came back to Peter the fear 
which he had quite forgotten when in his dream he had 
again seen the uninjured chair. Even though Heidi had 
promised not to do anything about it, still Peter was greatly 
afraid that he would not escape from the consequences 
of his sin so easily. He was entirely tamed, and willing 
to be a guide or anything else, and did exactly what Heidi 
asked him to. 

When, therefore, all three had come back to the 
pasturage, Heidi quickly fetched her dinner bag full of 
provisions and set about making good her promise. For, 
although Mr. Peter did not know it, her threat a while 
before had been that if he was not nice he could not share 
their food with the girls. Heidi had noticed especially 
that morning what goodies grandfather had packed in 
the bag, and she had been looking forward happily to 
having Peter share a generous portion of them. But 
when the boy had been so stubborn, she had been quick to 
warn him he might not get any dinner, only Peter had 
not understood her hint because of his uneasy conscience. 

Now Heidi was taking piece after piece out of the bag 
and stacking the food in three small heaps. And these 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 


33i 

piles gradually grew so tall tKat she said to herself with 
satisfaction— 

“And, besides, he can have all the food we leave when 
we’re no longer hungry.” 

Then she presented a little heap to each one and sat 
down beside Clara to eat her own portion. And, after 
all the exercise they had had, the children thoroughly 
enjoyed their hearty meal. 

It turned out just as Heidi thought it would. 

After the two girls had eaten all they wanted, so much 
food remained that Peter was given a second pile of it 
almost as tall as his first share had been. He ate it all 
silently and without pausing for breath even, down to the 
very crumbs. And yet, as he accomplished this feat, he 
did not feel any great contentment. There was something 
within him that gnawed at his stomach—or was it his 
conscience?—so that he fairly choked over every mouthful 
of food. 

The children had got to their dinner so late that almost 
as soon as it was over Grandfather was seen coming up the 
mountain meadow to get them. Heidi rushed to meet him. 
She wanted to be the first to tell him what had happened. 
But she got so excited trying to tell him the wonderful news 
that she could hardly put her thoughts into words, and yet 
he seemed to understand at once what she was striving to 
say, and his face grew bright with joy. He hastened 
his steps, and when he reached Clara he said with a happy 
smile— 

“So we got up our courage, after all! And we won 
out, didn’t we? That’s fine!” 


332 


HEIDI 


Then he raised Clara from the ground, put his left 
arm around her waist, and gave her his right hand to take 
and lean on. And, with Grandfather’s arm like a stout 
wall at her back, she struck out with her feet more surely 
and with less fear than before. 

Heidi hopped along beside her and crowed with glee, 
and Grandfather looked as if he had met with an unex¬ 
pected piece of great good fortune. But all at once he lifted 
Clara into his arms and said, warningly— 

“We must be careful not to overdo it. And, besides, 
it’s time to be going back.” 

With that, he started on his way immediately, for he 
knew that Clara had had exercise enough for one day 
and was in need of rest. 

Late that evening, when Peter and his goats came 
into The Hamlet, a large number of people were standing 
together in a crowd and shoving each other aside, so as 
to get a better view of something that lay on the ground 
in their midst. Peter went up to have a look, too. He 
pushed and nudged his way right and left, and finally 
managed to slip through. 

Then he saw what it was. 

On the grass lay the middle part of the wheel chair, 
and a piece of the back was still clinging to it. The red 
cushions and the shining nails showed how splendid the 
chair had been before it came to ruin. 

“I was here when they were carrying it up,” the baker 
said at Peter’s side. “I’ll bet anybody it was worth at 
least five hundred francs. But it beats me how it ever 
got smashed so.” 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 


333 


“Nuncle himself said the wind probably blew it down,” 
remarked Barbel as she studied the red upholstery with 
a hungry gaze. 

“It's a blessing that nobody else broke it,” the baker 
went on to say. “He’d be in an awful hole. If the gentle¬ 
man in Frankfort hears about the accident, he’ll get the 
police to find out how it happened. You bet I’m glad I 
haven’t been up on the mountain meadow for two years. 
Anybody may be suspected who was up that way about 
the right time.” 

A good many other people said what they thought, 
but Peter had heard all he could stand. He crept away 
from the crowd as quietly and meekly as he could, and a 
moment later he was tearing at top speed up the mountain 
as if the Evil One were right at his heels. 

The baker’s words had given him an awful scare. For 
now he realized that any moment a policeman might come 
from Frankfort to spy into the matter. And then it would 
come out that he was the guilty one, and they would seize 
him and carry him off to prison. Peter saw all this hap¬ 
pening, as in a vision, and he grew so frightened that 
his hair stood on end. 

He reached home in a state of despair. He would not 
answer when he was spoken to and refused to eat his 
potatoes. As soon as he could, he crawled into bed and 
began to groan. 

“Peter’s been picking sorrel upon the slope and eating 
it again,” his mother said. “It’s resting on his stomach, 
and that’s what makes him groan so.” 

“You must give him a little more bread for his lunch,” 
22a 


334 


HEIDI 


Grandmother added, “then he won’t be so hungry. Give 
him a piece of my bread tomorrow.”— 

That night, as the two little girls looked up from their 
beds at the starlight, Heidi said— 

“Haven’t you been thinking all day, Clara, how fine 
it is that the dear God doesn’t give in, when we pray to 
Him so terribly hard, and yet when He knows of some¬ 
thing better ?” 

“Why do you say that just now?” Clara asked. 

“Don’t you see, dear, in Frankfort I thought the dear 
God had not heard my prayers, because I begged so hard 
to go home right away and He wouldn’t let me? But, 
you know, if I had got my wish and gone straight home, 
you would never have come to the mountain to visit me 
and would not have got well.” 

Clara grew thoughtful as she heard these words. 

“Why, then, Heidi,” she said after a while, “we 
oughtn’t to pray for anything at all, because the dear God 
always has something better in mind for us than what we 
ask Him for.” 

“O Clara, how can you talk that way!” Heidi cried, 
almost angrily. “We must pray to the dear God at all 
times and about everything, for He wishes to hear us 
say that we have not forgotten Him and owe Him what¬ 
ever good thing we have. And your grandmama told 
me that if we forget the dear God, then He puts us out 
of His mind. But then, you see, if we do not receive what 
we wish for, we must not stop praying and think the dear 
God has not heard us. No, we must turn to Him and say, 
‘Now I know, dear God, that You have something better 


THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS 


335 

in mind for me, and I am thankful that You are so good 
to me/ ” 

'Where did you hear about all that?” Clara asked. 

"Grandmama explained it to me at first, and then things 
turned out just as she said, and then I knew she was right. 
But I think, Clara,” Heidi went on to say, as she sat 
straight up in bed, "that tonight we ought certainly to 
thank the dear good God, because He has given us the 
happiness of seeing you walk.” 

"You’re right, Heidi, and I feel that way, too. And 
I’m glad you reminded me of my duty, for in my joy I had 
almost forgotten it.” 

Then the children said their prayers and, each in her 
own way, thanked the dear God for sending such a won¬ 
derful blessing to Clara after she had been sick such a 
long time. 

Next morning Grandfather said he thought they ought 
to write Grandmama and tell her that they had a surprise 
in store for her When she came to the mountain. But the 
children had thought out another plan, for they wished to 
give Grandmama a great big shock. First, Clara must 
learn to walk better so that, with Heidi’s support, she could 
go quite a little way, but the main thing was not to let 
Grandmama have the least suspicion of what was up. 
They would let Grandfather say how long he thought this 
would take. And he said he thought a week was plenty of 
time, so in their next letter to Grandmama she was urged to 
come up the mountain just a week from that date. But not 
a word was said about anything unusual. 

The days that followed were by far the most lovely 


336 


HEIDI 


that Clara had spent on the mountain. Each morning she 
awoke with a loud voice in her heart crying joyously— 

“I am well, I am whole again! I don’t have to sit in 
my wheel chair. I can walk around by myself like other 
people.” 

Then would follow her exercises in walking. And 
each day it went more easily and a little better, and she 
could walk greater distances. Her exercise gave her such 
a splendid appetite that Grandfather had to keep making 
her thick slices of bread and butter even thicker, and he 
was glad to see how fast they disappeared. He always 
brought a large pot of foaming milk along with the sand¬ 
wiches and filled one bowl after another for Clara. 

And so the end of the week came, and with it the day 
that Grandmama had set aside for her visit. 


CHAPTER IX 

PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 

A day before her arrival on the mountain meadow 
Grandmama had sent a letter to say exactly when she was 
coming. Peter brought this letter with him early next day 
when he was on his way up to the pasture. 

Grandfather and the children had already come out 
of the cottage, and Little Swan and Little Bear were both 
standing outside with them, shaking their heads happily in 
the cool morning air while the children stroked their backs 
and wished them a pleasant journey up the mountain side. 
Nuncle stood by in much contentment, studying in turn 
the fresh faces of the children and his clean and shining 
goats. Both must have given him pleasure, for he was 
smiling with satisfaction. 

And then Peter made his appearance. 

When he caught sight of the little group, he approached 
more slowly. He seemed fairly to crawl along as he deliv¬ 
ered the letter to Nuncle. But the moment he had surren¬ 
dered it, he jumped shyly backward, as if something had 
frightened him. And then he looked quickly around him as 
if there was another something behind to be afraid of. 
Then he gave a leap and ran away up the mountain. 

Heidi had been watching these actions with great 
surprise. 

“Grandfather,” she said, “what makes Peter act the 
way Big Turk does when he feels the rod about to strike 


337 


338 


HEIDI 


him? Don’t you know, he sheers off with his head and 
shakes it at everything and then makes sudden leaps in 
the air?” 

“I suppose Peter thinks there’s a rod after him, too, 
and he knows he deserves it,” Grandfather answered. 

It was only the first incline that Peter ran up with¬ 
out stopping for breath. The moment he was out of sight 
of the people below him, he stood still and turned his head 
fearfully in every direction. Suddenly he jumped and 
looked behind him, as much afraid as if someone had just 
grasped him by the back of the neck. For behind every 
bush, from every hedgerow, Peter was now expecting to 
see a policeman from Frankfort rush out at him. The 
longer he had this intense fear in his heart, the worse he 
became. He did not have another moment’s peace. 

And now Heidi had to set the hut to rights, for when 
Grandmama came she must find everything in perfect 
order. 

Clara always took such an interest in Heidi’s furious 
housekeeping that it was fun for her just to sit at one side 
and watch while the work was going on. 

So the first hours of the morning passed before the 
children realized it, and it was soon time for them to look 
forward to Grandmama’s arrival at any moment. 

Then the children came out of the house again, but 
this time all dressed for the occasion and prepared to 
welcome their expected guest properly. They sat down on 
the bench in front of the hut to await her. Grandfather 
came to join them. He had been off for a walk and had 
returned with a great big bouquet of dark blue gentians, 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 339 

and the flowers looked so lovely in the light of the clear 
morning sun that the children cried out with delight when 
they saw them. Every now and then Heidi would jump up 
from the bench to run and see if she could catch sight of 
Grandmama’s party. 

But then—there it was suddenly coming up from below, 
just exactly as Heidi had pictured it. First came the guide, 
then the white horse with Grandmama on it, and last of all 
the porter with the high wicker hamper, for you may be 
sure the old lady would never have started out for the 
mountain without plenty of wraps to protect her. 

Nearer and nearer came the procession. At last the 
top was reached. Grandmama was looking from her 
horse down at the children. 

“Why, what is that? What do I see, Clara? You’re 
not in your chair ? Why, how can that be ?” she cried out 
in alarm, and hastily climbed down from her horse. 

But even before she could get to where the children 
were standing, she was wringing her hands in the greatest 
excitement and crying— 

“Clara! My little Clara girl, is it you? Why, your 
cheeks are as red and round as apples! Child! I simply 
don’t know you any longer!” 

And then Grandmama started to rush toward Clara. 

Heidi slipped unnoticed from her place on the bench, 
Clara quickly found the support of her shoulders, and 
together the children wandered away, quite calmly starting 
to take a short walk. For the first few seconds Grand¬ 
mama stood stock still from sheer fright. She was afraid 
Heidi was doing something that might have terrible results. 


340 


HEIDI 


And then, what was it that she saw right before her! 

Clara was moving along erect and sure by Heidi’s 
side. And now they had turned around and were coming 
back again, both with beaming faces, both with cheeks as 
red as fire. 

Then Grandmama literally plunged forward to meet 
them. Laughing and weeping in the same breath, she 
hugged Clara tightly to her. Then she clasped Heidi, and 
then again Clara. Her happy heart was too full for words. 

Suddenly her gaze rested on Nuncle, who was standing 
by the bench and smiling happily as he watched the scene 
before him. Then Grandmama took Clara’s arm in hers 
and walked with her to the bench. And all the time she 
was crying out with joy that the miracle had really hap¬ 
pened and here she was walking along with her healthy 
child beside her. She stood aside from Clara and stretched 
out both hands to the waiting old gentleman. 

“My dear Nuncle, what can we ever do to show how 
grateful we are? It is your work, every bit! Your care 
and nursing—” 

“Added to the sunshine and the highland air of our 
Lord God,” Nuncle interrupted her with a smile. 

“Yes, and Schwanli’s fine, pure milk too,” Clara said 
in her turn. “Grandmama, you just ought to see how I can 
drink goat’s milk and to know how good it tastes!” 

“I can tell all that by your cheeks, Clara,” the old lady 
said, laughing. “No, sir, no one would ever know my little 
girl now. You’ve grown plump and broad as I never 
even dreamed you could, and you are taller, Clara. My! 
Can it really be true ? I simply can’t take my eyes off you! 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 341 

I must send a telegram right away to your father in Paris, 
begging him to come. I shan't tell him why, for it is to 
be the biggest joy his life will ever have. My dear Nuncle, 
how can we have the telegram sent at once? You let the 
men who brought me here depart, didn't you?" 

“Yes, they have gone," he answered. “But if the Lady 
Grandmama is in such a hurry, why not have the goatherd 
take it down. He has time for anything." 

Grandmama insisted on having the telegram sent off 
at once, for she was not willing to keep this happiness from 
her son a single day. 

Then Nuncle went off a short distance and gave so 
tremendously shrill a whistle through his fingers that 
you could hear the high notes coming back from the rocks 
above, so far away had the sharp sound awakened the 
echoes. Before very long Peter was seen running down 
toward them. He knew that whistle! 

The poor chap was as white as chalk, for he thought 
Meadow Nuncle was calling him down for his punishment. 
But all that was given him was a piece of paper on which 
Grandmama had written something! And here was 
Nuncle explaining to him that he had to carry it down to 
Dorfli right away and leave it at the post office. He was 
to say that Nuncle would pay for it himself later, for Peter 
could not be trusted to remember very many things at 
the same time. 

And so the lad went off with the paper in his hand, 
for the time being very much relieved that Nuncle had not 
whistled for him to go away to court and that no police¬ 
man had appeared.— 


342 


HEIDI 


At last they could sit down in sober quiet together 
around the table in front of the cottage, and then Grand- 
mama had to be told from the very beginning how things 
had come about. First she heard how Grandfather had 
encouraged Clara to stand on her feet a little each day 
and afterward try to walk. Then she listened to the story 
of the chair that the wind blew away just as they were 
setting out for the upper pasture. Then she learned of 
Clara’s great desire to see the flowers, of her first real 
walk, and of how one thing had led to another. But it 
was a long while before the children had brought their 
tale to an end, because every now and then Grandmama 
would break out in amazement and exclaim, full of praise 
and gratitude, again and again— 

“Can it really be possible? Then it’s not just a dream 
after all? Are we actually all awake and sitting here 
on the mountain meadow before the hut? And is this 
girl beside me, this creature with the round, flushed face, 
the same pale, weak Clara that I used to know?” 

As for Clara and Heidi, there was no end to their 
delight, because the surprise which they had so carefully 
planned had turned out so well that Grandmama just 
could not recover from the shock of it.— 

During the last few weeks, however, Mr. Sesemann 
had been finishing up the business that kept him in Paris, 
and had likewise been preparing a surprise. Without 
writing a single word to his mother about it, he took the 
train one sunny summer morning and traveled straight 
through to Basel. He left there as soon as he could the 
next day, for he was growing terribly homesick for his 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 343 

little daughter from whom he had been separated the 
whole summer long. And so it came about that he arrived 
in Ragaz but a few hours after his mother had left to go 
to the mountain. 

The news of her trip to pay a visit to Clara suited his 
plans exactly. The moment that he could, he set off in a 
carriage to be driven to Mayenfeld. But when he learned 
that there was a carriage road to Dofli, he drove on to 
that point because he felt sure that the climb on foot up 
the mountain slope would be as much as he cared to under¬ 
take. 

Nor was Mr. Sesemann mistaken in this, for the steady 
climb up the sloping trail seemed very long and tiresome 
to him. Even after he had been toiling up the steep 
mountain path for quite a while, there was still no hut of 
any sort in sight, and yet he knew that he ought to come 
to Goat Peter’s house when he was halfway to the moun¬ 
tain meadow, for he had often heard that this was so. 

All about him were the footprints of people who had 
passed that way, and often he came to footpaths that led 
off in all directions. But the trouble was that Mr. 
Sesemann was not at all sure he was on the right road, 
and he thought perhaps the hut was located on the other 
side of the mountain. He looked about him, to see if he 
could discover any human being from whom he could ask 
the way. But on every hand it was as still as death. Far 
and wide there was nothing in sight, there was no sound to 
be heard. The mountain breeze alone occasionally moved 
the air, small insects buzzed in the haze of sunlight, now 
and then a bird piped merrily from the branches of a lonely 


344 


HEIDI 


larch tree. Mr. Sesemann halted for a few moments and 
bared his hot forehead to the cool highland breeze. 

Just then someone came running down from above. 
It was Peter with the telegram in his hand. He was not 
keeping to the worn trail, but rushing straight ahead of 
him, no matter how steep it was. As soon as the speeding 
boy came close enough, however, Mr. Sesemann waved 4 o 
him to stop and come over a minute. Shy and hesitating, 
Peter approached, not coming directly toward his ques¬ 
tioner, but edging along, as if he could move properly with 
only one of his feet and had to drag the other after him. 

“Come on, bo(y! Don’t be afraid,” Mr. Sesemann 
said to encourage him. 

But his words seemed to have a curious effect on the 
young mountaineer. He halted for an instant, apparently 
in doubt as to what course he should pursue, and then 
again crept slowly toward the trail, but at a snail’s pace. 

“I only want to know,” said Mr. Sesemann, “if this is 
the way up to the hut where the old man lives with the 
child Heidi, and where the people from Frankfort are.” 

A hollow groan of awful terror was the sole answer 
to this simple question. Peter darted away with such 
tremendous leaps that he went plunging down the steep 
slope head over heels and kept rolling over and over in 
most unexpected somersaults. In fact, he acted much as 
the wheel chair had done in its descent, with the exception 
that Peter did not come to pieces like the chair. 

The only thing that suffered was the telegram. This 
received such harsh treatment that it floated away on the 
breeze, quite torn to shreds. 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 345 


“That mountaineer is remarkably bashful,” Mr. Sese- 
mann said to himself, for he thought that the appearance 
of a stranger was the cause of such strange actions on the 
part of this simple son of the Alps. 

After he had spent a few moments more watching 
Peter’s violent descent, Mr. Sesemann continued his weary 
climb. 

In spite of all his efforts Peter was unable to find a 
spot level enough to let him regain his footing. He rolled 
on and on as if he were never going to stop, and from time 
to time he curved about in the air in the strangest fashion 
imaginable. 

Such turning and tumbling, however, were by no means 
the worst that fate had to offer him at this moment. Far 
more terrible were his inward anguish and fear, now that 
he knew the policeman from Frankfort was really on his 
track. For he never doubted that this stranger who was 
asking about the Frankfort people up at Meadow Nuncle’s 
was a detective in plain clothes. 

At last, when he had reached the last high bluff above 
Dorfli, Peter managed to clutch a bush and cling to it long 
enough to stop his downward progress. He lay still a 
moment before rising, to collect his thoughts and decide 
what was the next thing to be done. 

“Well, I’ll be blessed! Here comes another one!” said 
a voice right above Peter. “I wonder who the next victim 
will be that gets a shove and starts flying downhill like a 
badly sewed potato sack.” 

It was the Dorfli baker who stood there making fun 
of him. 


34^ 


HEIDI 


He had climbed to the top of the bluff, to get a little cool 
air after his hot morning’s work, and had been quietly 
watching the goatherd as he came racing down the slope 
for all the world like the ill-fated chair. 

Peter sprang to his feet. Here was a new fright. For 
it seemed that the baker had already learned the chair had 
been shoved off by somebody, and so, without once looking 
behind him, Peter turned around and started to run up 
the mountain again. 

What he wanted to do most was to go home and creep 
into bed, for no one would find him 'there and of all the 
places that seemed the safest. But he had left his goats up 
in the pasture, and Nuncle had told him particularly to 
hurry back so the herd would not be alone too long without 
their master. And he was more afraid of Nuncle than 
of anybody else, and stood in such awe of him that he did 
not dare disobey his lightest word. 

So Peter groaned aloud and went limping onward. 
He had to go back up the mountain. Only he could not 
run any longer, for his terror and the many hard knocks 
that he had got in his falling were beginning to have their 
effect. Staggering and limping badly, groaning with pain 
and fear, he climbed up ! to the mountain meadow. 

Mr. Sesemann had reached the halfway hut soon after 
his meeting with Peter, and from that moment he knew 
that he was on the right path. He climbed on with 
renewed courage and at last, after a long, hard pull of it, 
he saw his goal before him. There stood the hut on the 
mountain meadow, and above it waved the dark branches 
of the old pine trees. 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 347 


The traveler climbed the last part of his way with 
delight, for he was soon to take his child by surprise. But 
he had already been seen and recognized by the group 
of people sitting in front of the cottage, and a surprise 
was being prepared for the father that he little expected. 

When he had taken the last step up 'to the height, 
two figures came toward him from the hut. A tall young 
girl with light yellow hair and rosy face was leaning for 
support on little Heidi, whose dark eyes were fairly spark¬ 
ling with glad excitement. 

Mr. Sesemann started back in amazement. He stood 
and gazed at the approaching children with wide, staring 
eyes. 

Wha't scenes did memory bring back to his fond heart! 
Tears suddenly flooded his eyes. Just so had Clara's 
mother looked as a young girl—clear blonde, and with 
cheeks slightly tinged with red. Mr. Sesemann could not 
tell whether he was awake or dreaming. 

“Papa, don't you know me any longer?" Clara called 
out to him then, and her face beamed at him joyfully. 
“Am I so changed ?" 

The father rushed toward his little daughter and 
folded her tightly in his arms. 

“I should say you were changed! Is it possible? Can 
it be ?" 

And, his heart almost bursting with happiness, the 
father stepped back a short distance, as if to see whether 
the vision would remain or vanish wholly from his sight. 

“Is it really you after all, Clara?" he had to cry one 
time after another. He took the child back in his arms, 


HEIDI 


348 

and 'then he had to look her all over again to make sure 
that it was actually his Clara who stood erect before him. 

At that moment Grandmama appeared, for she could 
not wait any longer to feast her eyes on her son’s happy 
face. 

“Well, my dear fellow, why don’t you say something?” 
she called in greeting. “This surprise you’ve given us is 
very nice indeed, but what do you think of the one we’re 
giving you ?” 

And the delighted mother kissed her son with fond 
affection. 

“But now, dear,” she said after a moment, “come over 
yonder with me and be introduced to our good Nuncle, 
who is the greatest benefactor in the world.” 

“Surely and at once! But first we must say 'how do 
you do’ to little Heidi,” Mr. Sesemann remarked, and he 
shook hands with the young Swiss girl. “How are you, 
Heidi? Fresh and blooming as usual up here on your 
mountain ? But my! I don’t need to ask, do I ? No Alpine 
rose could look more flourishing. And that’s a great joy 
to me, child, to see you so again!” 

Heidi looked up with shining eyes at her nice Mr. 
Sesemann. How good he had always been to her! And 
it made Heidi’s heart beat faster to think that he should 
be finding such great happiness up here on the mountain 
meadow. 

Then Grandmama led her son over to Meadow Nuncle, 
and the two men shook hands most heartily. Mr. Sese¬ 
mann insisted on expressing his grateful thanks for the 
wonderful change in Clara and said he was utterly amazed 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 349 

that such a thing could ever have happened. But when her 
son began his speech, Grandmama stole away, for in this 
matter she had already said everything that there was to 
say and she thought she would like to have a look at the fir 
trees. 

But here another surprise was waiting for her. 

Under the pines, where the long branches had left a 
free space, an enormous bunch of wonderful dark blue 
gentians was standing. And they were as fresh, as spark¬ 
ling with dew, as if they had just grown there. Grand¬ 
mama clasped her hands in delight. 

“Why, how perfectly wonderful! How exquisite! 
What a lovely sight!” she cried. “Heidi, Heidi dear 
come here! Did you gather these for me? I never saw 
anything so splendid!" 

The children joined her in a flash. 

“Oh, no, I really didn't," Heidi answered. “But I can 
guess who it was that picked them." 

“That's the way they are up in the pasture, Grand¬ 
mama, only more beautiful still," Clara chimed in. “But 
just guess who it was that fetched you these flowers, early 
this morning, all the way down from the highland pasture!" 

And Clara smiled so mysteriously at her grandmother 
that for one mad moment the old lady thought from what 
the child had said that she had been up there herself that 
day. But then Grandmama realized how impossible this 
would have been. 

A soft voice was heard to come from behind the fir 
trees. It was Peter who had now returned. But when he 
saw who was standing with Nuncle in front of the cottage, 


350 


HEIDI 


he made a big circle around the lawn and was trying to 
creep quite stealthily behind the pines. But Grandmama 
recognized his figure at once, and a new idea came to her 
mind. Had Peter been the one to gather the flowers for 
her, and was he now stealing away secretly because he 
was too shy and modest to want to be thanked for his 
pretty gift ? Oh, no, they could not let such a thing happen! 
The nice boy must have his reward. 

“Come here, my lad, and don’t be the least afraid!” 
she called to him loudly. And she thrust her head a little 
way in between the trees. 

Peter came to a halt, stiff with fear. After all that he 
had recently suffered, he no longer had strength to fight. 
There was only one thought in his mind— 

“It’s all up with me now!” 

His hair stood on end, and his pale face was distorted 
into an expression of great anguish. 

“Come right here, and no hanging back, mind!” Grand¬ 
mama said, encouragingly. “Now tell me, sir, did you 
bring me these flowers?” 

Peter never lifted his eyes to see what the old lady 
was pointing at. He only knew that Nuncle was standing 
over there by the corner of the hut and had his sharp gray 
eyes fixed upon him. And right beside Nuncle was the 
most terrible sight that Peter could imagine, the police¬ 
man from Frankfort. So, shaking in every limb, and in 
a trembling voice, Peter managed to utter just one sound— 

“Yes.” 

“Well,” Grandmama said, “that is surely nothing to 
be afraid of.” 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 351 

“But Fm scared—scared—because it’s all broken to 
pieces and can’t ever be mended again,” Peter stammered 
with great difficulty. And his knees knocked together 
so that he could hardly stand. Grandmama walked over 
to the corner of the hut. 

“Tell me, my dear Nuncle,” she asked, sympathetically, 
“is there something wrong with this boy’s upper story?” 

“Why, no,” Nuncle assured her. “Only this boy is 
the wind that blew away the wheel chair, and now he’s 
come to get the punishment that he so richly deserves.” 

Grandmama could not bring herself to believe it. For 
she thought that Peter did not look at all like a naughty 
boy, and, besides, he could have had no reason for destroy¬ 
ing the chair which was so necessary to them. But the 
boy’s stammering words had only made Nuncle more sure 
of what he had already suspected from the start. 

Grandfather had not failed to notice the sour looks 
that Peter had been casting at Clara since the first moment 
he met her. And there had been plenty of other signs of 
bitterness the boy felt toward these newcomers on the 
mountain. Grandfather had been putting one thing and 
another together in his mind, and so had figured out just 
how the whole affair had happened. He told this all very 
clearly to Grandmama, but at the end of his story she 
interrupted him in no little excitement. 

“A thousand times, no! We must not punish this poor 
chap any further, my dear Nuncle. Let’s try and be just. 
Strange people from Frankfort break into his life and 
steal Heidi away from him for weeks at a stretch. So 
he loses what he loves most, his one great blessing, for 


35 2 


HEIDI 


Heidi is all that to him. And all the poor lad can do is to sit 
quietly to one side and wait for her to come. Don’t you see 
we must not be unreasonable with him ? His anger got the 
better of him and spurred him on to a revenge which was 
very silly. But, then, we’re all foolish when we get angry.” 

Whereupon Grandmama marched back to Peter, who 
was still shaking in his shoes. 

She sat down on the bench underneath the fir trees 
and said to him in the nicest way— 

“Come over here to me, my lad, for I have something to 
say to you. Don’t shiver and shake any more, but just 
listen to me as you should. You made the wheel chair fall 
down the slope because you wanted to smash it. That was 
a wicked thing to do, as you know very well. And you 
realized, too, that you deserved a good whipping for your 
naughty deed, and in order to dodge this punishment you 
tried as hard as you could to hide what you had done away 
from people. Isn’t this all true?” 

“Yes,” muttered Peter, and hung his head. 

“But, look here! The boy who commits sin and then 
thinks that no one knows about it is badly mistaken. For 
the dear God sees and hears everything that goes on. And 
the moment He sees that a little boy wants to hide his sin, 
the dear God wakes up the watchman that was put in the 
boy when he was born and sleeps in him until the boy has 
done something wrong. And do you know, Peter, what 
the small watchman has in his hand?” 

“What?” asked Peter, interested in spite of himself. 

“He has a pin. And with this pin the watchman keeps 
pricking the boy, so that he never has a quiet moment to 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 353 


himself. And with his still small voice the watchman 
plagues the boy and keeps telling him, to torment him, 
'You just wait! It will be found out! You’re going to be 
punished, you are!’ And then the boy lives in constant 
fear and trembing, and he has no more fun, not one bit. 
Isn’t that the way you feel about it, Peter ?” 

Peter nodded sorrowfully, but like a person who knows 
that he has just heard the truth spoken to him. 

"And in another way you were mistaken,” Grandmama 
went on. "See how the wrong that you did turned out 
to be just the best thing that could have happened to the 
girl you wanted to harm. Because Clara had lost her chair 
and yet wished so much to see the beautiful flowers, she 
tried with might and main to walk. And she learned to 
use her feet and keeps on improving. And if she stays 
here, she will finally be able to walk up to the pasture every 
day, much oftener than she could ever have been carried 
up in her chair. Don’t you see how it is, Peter? When a 
boy wants to do something bad, the dear God can take his 
act quickly into His own hands and make a blessing out of 
it. And the wicked boy has had all his trouble for nothing 
and the only one he hurts is himself, isn’t it ?” 

"Yes,” said Peter, for he knew that was true. 

"Are you sure you have understood me, Peter? Yes? 
Well then, you just think it over. And every time you 
want to do something naughty, remember the little watch¬ 
man inside you, and the pin he carries, and his croaking 
voice. Will you ?” 

"Of course I will/’ Peter answered. But he was still 
feeling very down in the mouth, because he didn’t know 


23 


354 


HEIDI 


how things were going to turn out with the policeman 
standing over there by Nuncle. 

“Well, that is good, and then the matter is all settled,” 
Grandmama concluded. “But now you must have something 
very nice, to make you remember the Frankfort people. 
Tell me, my dear boy, is there anything that you’ve always 
been wishing to have? Tell me the one thing you’d like 
best in all the world.” 

Then Peter raised his head and stared at Grandmama 
in astonishment. His eyes were as round as marbles. 
Here he had been expecting something awful to happen, 
and now there was talk about giving him what he wanted 
most! That young mind of Peter’s was certainly getting 
all mixed up. 

“Oh dear, yes, I mean it!” Grandmama said. “You’re 
to have a nice present, to make you think of the people from 
Frankfort, and to show you they have forgotten all about 
the naughty thing you did. Don’t you understand, laddie ?” 

It began to dawn on Peter that he no longer needed 
to be afraid of punishment, and that the kind lady who sat 
before him had saved him from the policeman. Then he 
suddenly felt as light and happy as if a mountain that 
had been resting on his chest had suddenly fallen off. And 
he was coming to see that it is better to tell your faults 
without delay. So he said— 

“And I lost the paper, too.” 

Grandmama had to think for a while before she got the 
connection of ideas. But then she remembered, and she 
said kindly— 

“I’m glad you told me about it. Always tell what is 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 355 


wrong immediately, and then it can be straightened out. 
And now, tell me, what is it that you would most wish to 
have?” 

Now Peter could choose anything in the wide world 
that he wanted to own. It made him dizzy just to think of 
it. The whole fair at Mayenfeld danced before his mind, 
and he thought of all the pretty wares in the booths at 
which he had looked for hours, but which he had never 
hoped to have. For Peter’s whole wealth consisted of 
five pennies, and the tempting wares at the fair had always 
cost at least twice as much as that. He 'thought of the fine 
red whistles that would be just the thing to call his goats 
with. He thought of those fascinating knives with round 
handles that they called toad-stabbers. Oh, those would 
make quick work of a hedge of hazel rods! 

Peter stood there deep in thought. He was trying to 
decide which of these two things was the most desirable, 
and he could not make up his mind. Then, suddenly, he 
had a happy thought. He had found a way by which he 
might have until the next fair to settle the matter. 

“Ten pennies,” Peter said very firmly. 

Grandmama could not keep from laughing. 

“At least that is not extravagant,” she said. “Come 
to me! ” 

She took her purse out of her pocket and drew from 
it a bright new gold piece. On this she laid two ten-penny 
pieces. 

“There!” she continued. “And now we’ll do a little 
example in arithmetic. Let me show you. In this sum 
of money you have just as many different ten pennies as 


356 


HEIDI 


there are weeks in a yeaj*. So, you see, every Sunday you 
can take ten pennies to spend, and the money will last a 
year.” 

“Every year of my life?” Peter asked innocently. 

At that Grandmama went off into such a gale of 
laughter that the men over by the corner of the hut stopped 
their talk to hear what was going on. 

Before she could continue her dealings with Peter, 
however, the old lady indulged in another fit of laughing. 

“Yes, my boy, every year of your life! I'll put it in 
my will, do you hear? And when I come to die, there in 
the will the words will be—To Goat Peter, ten pennies a 
week as long as he lives/ ” 

Mr. Sesemann nodded, to show that he agreed with 
Grandmama, and smiled over at them. 

Peter cast just one more look at the present in his hand, 
to see if it was really still there. Then he said, “Thank 
God!” 

And off he ran, taking unbelievably long leaps, but 
this time he stayed on his feet instead of turning somer¬ 
saults, for he was not now driven by fear, but by such 
joy as he had never before known in his life. All his cares 
and his anguish had vanished, for was he not to have ten 
pennies a week so long as he should live? 

Later on, when the little company in front of the hut 
on the mountain meadow had finished their jolly dinner 
and were still sitting together, talking of all sorts of things, 
Clara took her father's hand in hers. His face still shone 
with the joy he felt, and each time he looked at her he 
seemed if anything a little more happy than before. And 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 357 

his daughter said to him in a lively manner not at all like 
that of the limp Clara of other days— 

“O Papa, if you only knew all that Grandfather has 
done for me! He’s been so good every ^single day that I 
can’t even begin tb tell you all about it, but I’ll never for¬ 
get it as long as I live. And I shall always wish that I 
could do something in return for his loving care, or give 
him something that would make him at least half as happy 
as he has made me.” 

“And that’s just exactly the way I feel, my dear child,” 
said her father. “I’ve been trying right along to think of 
some way in which we can show a small part of our grati¬ 
tude to this prince of all good men.” 

Then Mr. Sesemann got to his feet and walked over 
to Nuncle, who was sitting beside Grandmama and having 
the finest kind of a chat with her. The old man rose politely 
at his guest’s approach. Mr. Sesemann grasped him by 
the hand and said in the friendliest manner— 

“My dear friend, let’s have a word together. You 
will understand me when I say that for many long years 
I have had no real joy. What did I care for all my money 
and possessions when I looked at my poor child whom all 
my riches could not restore to health! Next to our God in 
heaven, you have made my daughter whole and have given 
me a new life, as well. Now tell me how best we can show 
our deep thankfulness. I can never hope to repay what 
you have done for me and mine. But whatever is in my 
power to do, that shall be done. Speak, ;ny friend, what 
shall it be?” 

Nuncle had listened quietly and had gazed at the happy 


HEIDI 


358 

father with a smile of pleasure. When the other had 
finished speaking, he said in his decided way— 

“Mr. Sesemann will believe me when I say that I, too, 
have a large share of joy in this recovery on our meadow. 
My trouble has already been richly rewarded. Many 
thanks, my dear sir, for your generous offer, but I am in 
need of nothing. I shall have my child with me as long as 
I live, and I have enough for both of us. But there is 
one wish which I should like to have granted, and then I 
should never have any further anxiety.” 

“Just name it, my dear friend,” Mr. Sesemann urged. 

“I am old,” Nuncle went on to say, “and my days on 
this earth are numbered. When I pass away, I cannot 
leave the child anything. And she has no relatives, except 
a single one who might take advantage of her innocence. 
If Mr. Sesemann feels that he can give me the assurance 
that Heidi will never in her life be compelled to go among 
strangers to earn her daily bread, then he will have more 
than repaid me for the little I have done for him and his 
child.” 

“But, my dear friend, that goes absolutely without 
saying!” Mr. Sesemann burst out. “The child belongs to 
us. Ask my mother or my daughter if Heidi shall be 
given to other people than to ourselves! But now, dear 
chap, if it will be the slightest comfort to you, why, there’s 
my hand on it! I promise you solemnly that this child shall 
never in her life earn her bread among strangers. I’ll 
see to it, even after my life is ended, through my will.” 

“You are a good man,” Grandfather said. And for a 
moment he covered his eyes with his hand. 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 359 

“Nonsense, sir! I will say even more. Heidi is not 
made to live happily in a strange country, no matter how 
things turn out. We discovered that fact in Frankfort. 
But she has made friends. One of them I know in my own 
home town. He is settling up his affairs there so that 
after a little he can go wherever he likes and have a good 
rest. I speak, of course, of our friend the doctor. He 
is coming up here this autumn to ask your advice about 
where he should locate in this region. For he has enjoyed 
your company and Heidi’s more than anyone else’s. So, 
you see, Heidi is going from now on to have two guardians 
near her. And may they both be preserved -to her for a 
long time yet to come!” 

“God grant it!” said Grandmama piously. 

And, as if to say Amen to her son’s statement, she 
shook Nuncle’s hand very cordially and for a long time. 
Then, as she saw Heidi standing close beside her, she 
suddenly put her arms about the child’s neck, and drew 
her toward her. 

“And you, dear Heidi, must be questioned, too, just a 
bit. Come and tell me, isn’t there some wish that you 
would like to have granted ? ” 

“Oh, of course there is,” the little girl answered, and 
looked delightedly up at Grandmama. 

“That’s very nice, so out with it!” the old lady said, 
encouragingly. “What would you like to have, child ?” 

“I’d like awfully well to have my bed from Frankfort, 
with the three thick pillows and the heavy quilt. And 
then Grandmother would not have to lie with her head 
downhill and almost not breathe at all. And she’d be 


HEIDI 


360 

warm as toast under that quilt, and wouldn't always have 
to take her shawl to bed to keep from freezing/' 

In her eagerness to get what she was after, Heidi had 
said all that in a single breath. 

“Why, my dear child, what are you telling me now!” 
Grandmama cried excitedly. “It's a good thing you 
reminded me. In our selfish joy it is so easy to forget 
the things we ought to think of first. When the dear God 
sends us a wondrous blessing, then we should at once 
think of the poor people less fortunate than we. We'll 
telegraph straight off to Frankfort. This very day Rotten- 
meier will be told to pack the bed, and in two days it will 
be here. If God wills, the grandmother's going to have a 
fine rest in it.” 

Heidi danced gaily in a circle around Grandmama. 
But all at once she paused and said hastily— 

“Now I'll surely have to race right down to Grand¬ 
mother's. She'll be worrying because I haven't been to 
see her for ever so long.” 

For Heidi was on pins and needles. She just could 
not wait another minute to carry the joyful news to the 
bedridden old lady. And she remembered how sad grand¬ 
mother had been the last 'time she had been to see her. 

“No, Heidi. What are you thinking of?” said her 
grandfather in stern reproof. “When one has guests, one 
certainly does not go running off like that.” 

But Grandmama stood firmly by Heidi. 

“My dear Nuncle, excuse me, but I think the child is 
right,” she said. “Poor Grandmother has for a long time 
been a loser because of us. Why shouldn’t we all of us 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 361 

go right down to sfce her ? I can wait for my horse at Goat 
Peter’s just as well as here. And when it comes, we can 
continue on our way and send the telegram from Dorfli. 
Son, what do you say to this plan ?” 

Until this moment Mr. Sesemann had had no time to 
speak of what he intended to do. So he had to ask his 
mother to wait just a little while, if she would, so he could 
talk his plans over with her. 

It seems that Mr. Sesemann had made up his mind to 
take a short trip through Switzerland with his mother. 
And first of all he had wished to see if Clara was in a 
condition to go a short distance with them. But now there 
was no reason why he could not take the most enjoyable 
sort of journey with his little daughter, and he was very 
anxious to make use of these lovely late summer days 
while 'they lasted. He thought it best, therefore, to spend 
the night in Dorfli, and next morning to come up to the 
mountain meadow to get Clara. Then they two would go 
down and meet Grandmama in Ragaz, and from there they 
could travel wherever they wished. 

Clara was a little taken back when told to say good-by 
to the mountain at such short notice. But there were many 
other things to be happy about, and, besides, there was not 
any time to waste in being miserable. 

Grandmama had alfeady risen and taken Heidi’s hand 
to lead the procession down to Goat Peter’s. But then she 
suddenly remembered. 

“Why, what in the world are we going to do with 
Clara?” she cried, in much concern. For it occurred to her 
that the walk would be much too long for the little girl. 


362 


HEIDI 


She found that Nuncle had already taken his little 
foster-child up in his arms, just as he usually did, and was 
following with sure tread in the footsteps of Heidi and 
herself. She nodded back at him with great satisfaction. 
Mr. Sesemann closed up the rear, and so the little company 
started on its way. 

Heidi could not keep from dancing with joy by Grand- 
mama’s side and telling her all she wanted to hear about 
Peter’s old grandmother. She told her of the life in the 
halfway hut, of all they did there, and of how dreadfully 
cold it was in winter. 

Heidi reported everything down to the smallest detail, 
for she knew just how they got along. And she drew a 
clear word picture of Grandmother in her corner, as she 
sat all bent over and shivering with the cold. She knew 
everything they had to eat, and all the things they had to go 
without, too. 

Grandmama listened with the keenest sympathy to 
Heidi’s chatter until they came to the hut. 

Brigitte was just in the act of hanging Peter’s second 
shirt out in the sun so that it would be ready for him to 
change into when his other one had been worn long enough. 
She saw the procession approaching and dived quickly 
into the living room. 

“Now they are all going away, Mother,” she reported. 
“It’s quite a company of them. Nuncle is with them, too. 
He is carrying the 9ick child.” 

“Oh, isn’t there any other way?” Grandmother sighed. 
“Did you notice if they’re taking Heidi along? If the child 
would only stop in for a minute, long enough to take my 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 363 


hand in hers! I wish I could just hear her voice once 
again!” 

Then the door was suddenly flung back, as if a high 
wind had struck it, and Heidi came jumping over to the 
corner where Grandmother was and clung to her almost 
fiercely. 

“Grandmother, you can never, never guess! My bed’s 
coming from Frankfort, and all three of the pillows, and 
the thick quilt too. It will be here day after tomorrow. 
Grandmama said so.” 

Heidi couldn’t get her message out fast enough to suit 
her, because she did not want to wait a second to see the 
old lady’s great joy. Grandmother smiled, but she said a 
trifle sadly— 

“Oh, what a good woman she must be! I ought to be 
glad that she is taking you away with her, Heidi, only I 
may not live long enough to welcome you back.” 

“What’s that? Who has been telling such tales to 
the nice old grandmother?” asked a friendly voice at 
this point. Clara’s grandmother had come into the hut 
and heard what had been said, so she walked over to the 
blind woman and pressed her hand heartily. 

“There’s no talk of Heidi’s going with us,” she went on 
to say. “The child is to stay here and make you happy. 
We are planning to see Heidi again, of course, but we’re 
coming here to visit her. We shall be up on the mountain 
meadow every year, for we have the best of reasons for 
coming to the spot where the great miracle was done to 
our child, and offering up our special thanks to the dear 
God.” 


364 


HEIDI 


Then Grandmother’s face was lighted up with a real 
joy and she pressed good Mrs. Sesemann’s hand again and 
again, for she could not voice her thanks in words. Two 
great tears, but not of sadness, found their way slowly 
down her old cheeks. Heidi had seen the glad light that 
flashed into Grandmother’s face and felt very happy. 

“Now it’s turned out just as we were reading last time, 
hasn’t it, Grandmother?” she said, snuggling close to the 
blind woman. “Don’t you remember about the word 
'wholesome’ in the hymn book? And the bed’s going to 
make you wholesome again, isn’t it ?” 

“Oh, yes, Heidi,” Grandmother said with deep feeling, 
“and the dear God is giving me many other things besides 
healing my body. How can there be such people in the 
world, to go and bother about a poor old thing like me, 
and to do so much for me? There is nothing that so 
strengthens one’s faith in the good Father in heaven who 
remembers the least of His children as to find that there 
are people full of kindness and pity for a useless old 
woman like me.” 

“My dear Grandmother,” Mrs. Sesemann here inter¬ 
rupted her, “in the sight of our Father in heaven we are 
all poor and needy, and it’s equally necessary to us all that 
He does not forget. And now we have to say good-by, 
but only for a few months. And we’ll want to look you 
up the first moment we come back to the mountain next 
year. We shall never forget you, be sure of that!” 

Then Mrs. Sesemann took the old lady’s hand in hers 
for the last time and gave it a hearty squeeze. 

But, after all, she was not able to tear herself away 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 365 

quite as soon as she expected to, because Grandmother 
could not stop her flow of gratitude and kept wishing her 
visitor all the blessings that the dear God had to bestow 
on herself and all her household. 

Then Mr. Sesemann went down the valley with his 
mother, while Nuncle was carrying Clara back home again. 
And Heidi, without stopping once, danced madly along 
beside them, for she was so delighted at what the next 
days were to bring Grandmother that she had to hop a 
little almost every step she took. 

Ah, but the next day there were hot tears enough, 
when she and Clara parted! The little guest could not 
bear to leave her lovely mountain meadow, where she 
had found the greatest happiness of her life. But Heidi 
comforted her and said— 

“It will be next summer again before you know it, and 
then you'd come again, and it will be nicer than ever, lots 
nicer. Then you can walk right from the start of your 
visit, and we’ll go up to the pasture with the goats every¬ 
day, and we’ll see the flowers and everything. And it 
all will be jolly from the word 'go.’ ” 

Mr. Sesemann came, just as he said he would, to carry 
off his daughter. And he stood and talked a short while 
with Grandfather, for the two men found much to say. 
Clara was wiping away her tears as best she could, and 
finding much comfort in Heidi’s words. 

“Don’t forget to say good-by to Peter for me,” Clara 
said again. “And tell the goats good-by, especially Schwanli. 
I wish, I could think of a present to give Schwanli, she 
helped me such a lot to get well.” 


366 


HEIDI 


“You can do that fast enough!” Heidi assured her. 
“Just send her a little salt. Don’t you remember how she 
likes to lick the salt from Grandfather’s hand at dusk?” 

This advice Clara found most pleasing. 

“Oh, then I’ll surely send her a hundred pounds of salt 
from Frankfort,” she cried, joyfully. “She must have 
something to remember me by.” 

Then Mr. Sesemann beckoned to the children, for the 
time had come to start. Grandmama’s white horse had 
come for Clara to ride, and so there was no more need 
for the basket chair. 

Heidi took up her position at the extreme edge of the 
slope and waved her hand to Clara until the last small speck 
of both horse and rider had disappeared.— 

The bed came safely, and Grandmother sleeps in it so 
soundly that she is regaining some of her old strength. 

Kind Grandmama, when she got back to her home in 
Holstein, did not forget about the grim winter on the 
mountain. She sent an enormous package of clothes to the 
hut of Goat Peter. There were so many warm things 
packed away in it that Grandmother could wrap herself 
up until she was almost lost beneath her coverings. And 
never once again did she have to sit in the corner and shiver 
with the cold. 

A great house is being built in The Hamlet. The doctor 
came and for a short spell went to live in his old lodgings. 
But, on the advice of his friend Meadow Nuncle, the doctor 
bought the old building where Heidi had lived the winter 
before, and which had formerly been a lordly mansion, 
as could be easily seen from the lofty living room with 


PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW 367 

the handsome stove and the fine paneling. This part of 
the old house the doctor is having rebuilt for his own 
quarters. 

The other side of the spacious building is being fitted 
up for the winter home of Nuncle and Heidi, for the doctor 
realizes that Grandfather is an independent sort of man 
and must have his own house. Back of it all is a warm goat 
stable with thick walls, and here Schwanli and Barli can 
spend their winter days in vast comfort. 

The doctor and Meadow Nuncle grow to be better 
friends every day. And while they are climbing around 
the walls together, watching the progress of their new 
building, their thoughts never fail to turn to Heidi. For 
to both of them the chief joy in their new house is that they 
are to move into it with their happy child. 

“My dear Nuncle,” the doctor said recently, as he was 
standing on the wall with the old gentleman, “you must look 
at the matter as I do. I share all joys with the child, just as 
if next to you I were her nearest relative. But I also want 
to share all the duties that have to do with the care of the 
child. In that way I can hope to have a claim on Heidi, 
too, and can look forward to her living with me in my old 
age and caring for me. This is my dearest hope. Heidi 
shall share in my possessions as if she were my own child, 
and therefore we can leave her behind us without fear when 
the time comes for us to go, you and I.” 

Nuncle pressed the doctor’s hand gratefully. He said 
nothing, for he was a silent sort of man. But his good 
friend could see in his eyes how deeply Nuncle had been 
touched and how happy these words had made him. 


368 


HEIDI 


Meanwhile Heidi and Peter were sitting with Grand¬ 
mother. And the young girl had to talk so much, and the 
young lad had to listen so hard, that they almost lost their 
breath in their excitement and kept almost stumbling right 
over the happy old blind lady. 

And then, too, there was such a lot to tell Grandmother 
about what had happened during the summer, for they had 
not met very often all that long time. 

And each of the three looked happier than the other 
two, because here they were all back together again, and 
also because such amazing things had happened. But 
happier than any other face was perhaps that of mother 
Brigitte, for now with Heidi's help she at last got the 
straight of the story about the ten penny pieces that were 
to go on forever. 

Finally, however, Grandmother said— 

“Heidi, read me a hymn of praise and thanksgiving. I 
feel as if I could never fail to give praise and glory to our 
God in heaven for all the blessings that he has so richly 
showered upon us.” 










































































































































































































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